Ex  Libris 
I   C.  K.  OGDEN 


CHLOE  LANKTON; 


OB, 


LIGHT  BEYOND  THE  CLOUDS. 


A  STORY -OF  REAL  LIFE. 


PHILADELPHIA: 

AMERICAN   SUNDAY-SCHOOL   UNION, 

1122  CHESTNUT  STREET. 


New  York  i  Bonton  I 

599   BROADWAY.          I     141  WASHINGTON  St 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1859,  by  the 
AMERICAN  SUNDAY-SCHOOL   UNION, 

in  Oie  Clertfs  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  Eastern  District  of 
J'tnnsylvania. 


iff-  No  books  are  published  by  the  AMERICAN  SUNDAY-  Scnoot 
UXION  witliout  the  sanction  of  the  Committee  of  Publication,  consisting 
of  fourteen  members,  from  the  following  denominations  of  Christians, 
viz.:  &;ptist,  Mttliodist,  Congregational,  Episcopal,  Presbyterian, 
Lutheran,  and  Reformed  Dutch.  Not  more  than  three  of  the  membert 
can  be  of  the  same  denomination,  and  no  book  can  bepublisited  U>  which 
any  member  of  the  Committee  shall  object. 


PREFACE. 

THE  following  simple  story  is  neither  myth  noi 
fiction,  but  a  true,  unvarnished  tale,  without  com- 
ment or  colouring.  Chloe  Lankton  still  lives  and 
suffers  in  her  lowly  home  among  the  hills,  in  the 
town  of  New  Hartford,  Litchfield  county,  Connec- 
ticut. 

That  the  story  of  a  life  of  sorrow  and  trial  made 
happy  and  joyous  by  a  clear  and  uplooking  faith, 
and  the  effect  of  pure  religion  in  making  rich  the 
growth  of  heart  and  soul,  might  be  given  to  the 
world,  and  perhaps  shed  light  upon  the  darkened 
path  of  some  bewildered  one,  the  present  book  was 
written.  Upon  it  rests  Chloe's  benediction;  and 
with  it  goes  her  blessing  upon  all  stricken  hearts, 
and  her  prayer  that  to  such  it  may  prove  a  minis- 
tering angel,  pointing  them  upward  to  Him  who  has 
ever  given  her  strength  and  comfort  in  time  of 

sorest  need. 

H.  G.  A. 

,  CT.,  May,  1859. 


38 


COjN'l'JiiJN  J.C3. 


PAOl 

I.— Chloe  and  Beulah 9 

II.— The  Cloud  and  the  Sun...., 18 

III.— The  Removal 35 

IV.— Their  New  Home 44 

V. — Clouds  again : 54 

VI. — They  visit  Familiar  Scenes 65 

VII.— Duty  done 75 

VIII.— Rena's  Death 84 

IX. — A  Funeral  and  a  Journey 93 

X.— The  Father's  Visit  and  the  New  Bell 102 

XL— The  Ride  to  Hartford 112 

XII.— Sadness 122 

XIII. — Rachel's  Departure » 132 

XIV.— Dr.  Moody 142 

XV.— The  Deep  Cloud 152 

XVI.— The  Light  Beyond 160 

XVII.— "Out  of  the  Shadow  into  the  Sun"...          ...167 


CONTEXTS. 


PAflB 

XVIIL— Near  the  Grave 178 

/ 
XIX. — Pleasant  Incidents 185 

XX.— The  Mother's  Illness 194 

XXL— Mary's  Ducks 202 

XXII.— Golden  Wedding,  and  Chloe's  Removal 210 

XXIIL— Providences 220 

XXIV.— Afflictions 226 

XXV. — Sweet  and  Bitter 239 

XXVI.— A  Visit  to  Chloe ».... 247 


CHLOE  LANKTON; 

OB, 

LIGHT    BEYOND    THE    CLOUDS. 


I. 

CHLOE   AND   BEULAH. 

UPON  the  outskirts  of  one  of  our  New 
England  towns,  in  the  year  18 — ,  stood  a 
brown  house, — a  small  brown  house, — contain- 
ing only  a  kitchen  and  two  bedrooms,  besides 
a  low-roofed  chamber  above,  that  had  a  little 
square  window  at  each  end.  In  front  of  the 
house  was  a  level,  grassy  mound,  with  three 
rude  stone  steps  down  to  a  path  that  wound 
along  by  the  side  of  the  road,  leading  to  the 
pleasant  village  beyond. 

The  kitchen-door  opened  upon  the   green 


10  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OK, 


mound;  and  on  a  warm  summer  day,  as  it  was 
standing  open,  one  looking  in  might  have  seen 
a  girl  about  twelve  years  of  age  sitting  in  an 
old-fashioned,  straight-backed  chair,  busily 
knitting,  and  a  little,  black-eyed  girl  frolicking 
around  her.  A  frown  darkened  the  elder 
one's  face  as  she  gathered  up  and  wound  upon 
a  ball  the  dishevelled  yarn,  and  she  exclaimed, 
"  Chloe,  you're  never  still  a  minute !  Now  sit 
down  and  be  still !  If  you  don't,  I'll  make  day- 
light shine  through  you!" 

In  an  instant  Chloe  was  perfectly  sobered, 
and  sat  down  with  folded  hands,  looking  ti- 
midly and  demurely  up  into  her  sister's  face, 
thinking  if  she  made  the  least  move,  that  day- 
light would  certainly  "shine  through  her." 
It  was  so  unusual  a  circumstance  for  her  to 
be  silent,  and  she  sat  so  long  and  so  fixedly  in 
one  position,  that  her  mother  at  length,  fear- 
ing the  effect  it  might  have  upon  her,  said, 
"  Chloe,  put  on  your  bonnet  and  run  out  and 
feed  the  chickens." 

She  looked  up  into  her  sister's  face,  doubt- 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  11 

ing  even  then  whether  it  would  be  quite  safe 
for  her  to  go ;  but,  creeping  stealthily  around 
behind  her  chair  to  the  table,  she  seized  her 
calico  sun-bonnet,  and,  gaining  the  door,  gave 
one  bound  into  sunshine  and  freedom  again. 
She  was  going  around  to  the  hen-coop,  when 
she  caught  sight  of  a  little  blue  calico  dress 
coming  down  the  road.  She  stood  still  and 
shaded  her  eyes  with  her  sun-burnt  hand,  in 
order  to  see  more  distinctly.  "Oh!"  she 
cried,  "'tis  Beulah!"  and  in  a  moment  the 
chickens  were  all  forgotten,  as  she  bounded 
down  the  steps  to  meet  her. 

"Did  your  mother  say  you  might  come, 
Beulah?" 

"Yes,  and  I'm  going  to  stay  a  whole  hour!" 

"Oh,  what  a  long  while!  Won't  we  have 
a  good  time  ?  Let's  go  down  into  the  orchard : 
it's  always  so  nice  and  shady  there." 

So  they  clambered  over  the  stone  wall,  and 
their  flying  feet  made  a  path  through  the 
grass  down  to  the  apple-tree  that  stood  close 
to  the  wall,  and  whose  spreading  branches, 


12  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


now  loaded  with  fair,  nice-looking  early  apples, 
swept  the  green  bank  nearly  to  the  road.  The 
summer  breeze  lovingly  lifted  the  hair  from 
the  two  sunny  brows  upturned  to  catch  the 
sunlight  between  the  leaves,  and  wafted  the 
fragrance  of  the  mown  hay  that  the  workmen 
in  the  meadows  near  were  turning  with  rakes 
or  loading  into  carts. 

"Oh,  a'n't  it  nice?"  said  Chloe.  "How  sweet 
the  hay  smells!  I  do  love  to  be  out  doors: 
don't  you,  Beulah?" 

"  Yes,  I  do.  Don't  you  wish  we  could  live 
out-doors  all  the  time?" 

"  We  should  have  to,  if  we  didn't  have  any 
home." 

"Well,  we  could:  we  could  eat  strawberries, 
you  know,  and  sorrel ;  and  when  it  rained  we 
could  go  into  the  cider-mill." 

"  So  we  could.  But  where  should  we  sleep, 
Beulah?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  sighed  Beulah.  "  God  would 
take  care  of  us,  I  s'pose,  if  we  didn't  have 
any  father  and  mother,  or  any  home." 


LIGHT   BEYOND    THE   CLOUDS.  13 


"Yes,  if  we  were  good  children  he  would. 
Did  you  ever  hoar  God  speak,  Beulah?" 

"No:  nobody  ever  did." 

"Yes,  they  did.  You've  heard  him  speak, 
and  so've  I.  Thunder  is  God's  voice.  Sister 
Nancy  told  me  so." 

"What's  the  lightning,  then?" 

"I  don't  know:  I  guess  it's  when  he  winks 
his  eye." 

"God  don't  wink,"  said  Beulah.  "Don't 
you  know  the  man  in  the  Sunday-school  said 
God  was  a  Spirit,  and  didn't  have  eyes  like 
our's?" 

"Well,  I  don't  know  what  'tis,  then.  Oh, 
there's  a  carriage  full  of  folks!  Let's  hide  be- 
hind the  wall  and  see  'em  pick  these  splendid 
apples!"  • 

The  carriage  was  drawn  by  a  fine  span  of 
horses,  and  contained  a  gentleman  and  lady, 
a  girl  about  fourteen  years  old,  her  fair  face 
shaded  by  long  ringlets,  and  a  boy  younger. 

"What  beautiful  apples!"  exclaimed  the 
lady. 


14  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


"Oh,  father,"  cried  the  girl,  "do  pick  us 
some !  I  am  so  thirsty,  and  they  look  .so  nice 
and  juicy!" 

"Oh,  yes,  father!  do!"  said  the  boy,  clap- 
ping his  hands  and  smacking  his  lips. 

The  indulgent  father  reined  up  his  horses, 
reached  out  and  picked  off  several  and  tossed 
them  into  his  daughter's  lap. 

"Here,  mother,"  said  she,  distributing 
them, — "here,  Johnny, — here,  father:  you 
must  have  your  share  of  this  nice  treat." 

But  Johnny,  who  had  made  a  deep  bite  into 
his  apple,  made  a  wry  face,  and  threw  it  far 
over  into  the  orchard. 

"What's  the  matter,  Johnny?"  said  the 
father. 

"Taste  and  see." 

"Oh,  dreadful!" 

"Who  would  have  thought  it?"  said  they, 
as  one  after  another  the  apples  went  rolling 
on  to  the  ground. 

Then  Chloe  and  Beulah  clapped  their  hands 
and  laughed  loud  ?,nd  merriiy;  and  the  hay- 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  15 


makers  in  the  meadow  near  joined  long  and 
heartily,  while  the  carriage  disappeared  ra- 
pidly down  the  road. 

"Wasn't  it  fun  to  see  them  so  fooled?"  said 
Chloe. 

"Yes,"  said  Beulah:  "only  I  couldn't  help 
feeling  sorry  for  that  girl." 

"So  did  I;  but  'twas  real  fun,  after  ail. 
There !  Mother  told  me  to  feed  the  chickens ; 
then  you  come,  and  I  forgot  all  about  it." 

"I'd  like  to  see  the  chickens,"  said  Beulah. 
So  they  walked  across  the  orchard,  and  got 
over  the  fence  into  the  little  yard  where  the 
hen-coop  was.  Here  they  stayed,  feeding  and 
admiring  the  tender,  white  chickens,  until 
Beulah's  hour  was  more  than  spent  and  her 
sister  came  to  take  her  home.  Chloe  went 
with  her  around  to  the  stone  steps  to  bid  her 
good-night.  She  then  went  into  the  house, 
and  found  her  supper  waiting  for  her  on  the 
ound-leaved  table;  and  soon  after  she  crept 
up  into  the  low-roofed  chamber,  to  the  sweet 
slumber  and  beautiful  dreams  of  childhood. 


16  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


Chloe's  previous  history  is  very  much  the 
same  as  a  great  many  of  our  little  New  Eng- 
land girls.  Her  father  was  a  shoemaker,  and 
it  was  by  the  hard  work  of  his  hands  that  he 
earned  the  bread  for  his  family.  Her  mother, 
too,  toiled  early  and  late;  for  these  parents 
were  poor, — poor  in  worldly  goods,  though 
rich  in  mutual  affection  for  their  children. 
She  was  the  youngest  of  four  girls.  There 
had  been  six  in  all;  but  two  of  them  the 
mourning  parents  had  yielded  to  the  embrace 
of  death  and  seen  them  laid  side  by  side  in 
the  village  graveyard. 

Little  Chloe  was  always  singing  and  happy. 
She  liked  to  be  running  out  in  the  sunshine ; 
she  loved  the  birds,  the  flowers,  the  waving 
trees,  and  all  that  makes  the  summer  so  beau- 
tiful; and  when  the  autumn  came  she  heard 
music  in  the  sad-toned  winds  and  saw 
beauty  in  the  bright-coloured  leaves.  The 
white,  falling  snows  of  winter  Brought  her  a 
great  many  pleasures;  but  no  sooner  was  the 
ice  and  snow  all  melted  away  than  her  hand 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  17 


was  the  first  to  pluck  the  sweet  wild  flowers 
that  came  with  the  early  spring.  Her  own 
glad  heart  was  the  medium  which  made  every 
thing  look  bright:  so  through  all  the  year 
little  Chloe  was  singing  and  happy. 

True,  she  was  a  heedless  child,  always  run- 
ning in  and  throwing  down  her  bonnet  on  a 
chair,  table,  or  anywhere  but  the  proper 
place;  then  she  was  sure  to  be  always  playing 
around  in  some  one's  way,  and,  "  Chloe,  you're 
always  losing  your  things!"  "Chloe,  you're 
always  under  foot!"  greeted  her  every  hour 
of  the  day.  But  these  were  childish  faults. 
She  had  a  mild  temper  and  loving  disposition, 
which  endeared  her  to  all  and  made  her  a 
pure,  sweet  light  in  the  lowly  home  by  the 
wayside. 

B  2* 


18  CHLOE  LANKTON;  on, 


II. 

THE   CLOUD   AND   THE   SUN. 

So  the  years  passed  over  the  little  brown 
cottage  by  the  roadside  until  Chloe  was  ten 
years  old, — years  of  labour  to  the  father,  who 
worked  at  shoemaking,  to  the  mother,  who 
toiled  early  and  late,  and  to  the  older  sisters, 
who  had  learned,  one  to  spin,  another  to 
weave,  each  thus  contributing  her  mite  to  the 
yearly  income.  But  they  were  beautiful  years 
to  Chloe  and  Beulah.  Every  day  these  two 
little  girls  walked  to  school  hand  in  hand,  sat 
upon  the  same  seat  and  learned  the  same  les- 
sons. When  the  school  was  closed  in  the 
afternoon,  they  either  stopped  to  play  at  the 
frog-pond,  near  the  school-house,  by  the  road, 

ttrayed  away  over  the  fields  and  meadows, 
ir  most  favourite  resort  in  the  spring-time 
was  a  sunny  hill-side,  where  was  a  miniature 


t 

LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  19 


"Sibyl's  Cave," — a  rock,  slightly  hollowed  on 
one  side,  covered  with  moss,  that  was  always 
green,  and  dripping  with  the  water  that 
poured  over  the  rock  and  dashed  down  the 
hill  in  a  little  musical  brook.  Here  they 
found  the  blue  and  white  violets  and  the 
drooping  anemones.  In  June  they  knew 
where  to  look  for  the  erimson  strawberries  in 
the  meadow;  and  as  the  summer  advanced 
they  rambled  over  the  fields  and  wandered 
through  the  woods  in  search  of  blackberries 
and  whortleberries.  Chloe  and  Beulah  were 
always  happy  together,  because  they  loved 
each  other  so  much.  If  either  had  been  un- 
kind or  quarrelsome,  it  would  have  spoiled 
much  of  their  happiness ;  but  they  loved  each 
other  so  much  that  never  an  unkind  word 
passed  between  them. 

Chloe's  father. was  at  work  one  day  on  his 
shoemaker's  bench,  in  a  corner  of  the  kitchen, 
and  near  him  her  mother  sat  with  her  knit- 
ting-work. 

"I  don't  know  what  ails  Chloe,"  said  she: 


20  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 

"I'm  afraid  something  is  the  matter  with 
her." 

" Matter  with  her !  Why?"  asked  the  father. 

"Because  she's  so  stupid  and  sleepy  all  the 
time.  I  have  to  call,  and  call,  to  get  her  up  in 
time  for  breakfast :  then  she'll  go  to  sleep,  and 
sleep  till  I  wake  her  up  to  go  to  school :  then 
she'll  start  and  go  behind  all  the  rest,  and  walk 
as  if  she  could  not  draw  one  foot  after  another. 
Nancy  says  she  gets  to  sleep  on  her  seat  in 
school-time,  and  the  teacher  has  to  shake  her 
to  get  her  up  to'  read,  and  then  she  doesn't 
seem  to  know  what  she's  reading  about.  I 
feel  real  worried  about  her." 

"Perhaps  it's  her  growing.  I've  noticed 
lately  that  she  grows  very  fast:  it's  apt  to 
make  children  dull,  you  know.  Tisn't  best 
to  feel  troubled.  I  guess  she'll  get  over  it :  I 
hope  she  will." 

"Of  course,  we  all  hope  she  will;  and  per- 
haps she  will;  but  it  looks  to  me  like  some- 
thing more  than  growing.  I  can't  bear  to  see 
her  so,"  she  continued,  bending  her  head  to 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  21 


recover  a  dropped  stitch.  "  You  haven't  seen 
her  so  much  lately,  because  you've  been  to 
work  out-doors  more.  To-morrow  morning  I 
want  you  should  notice  her.  If  she  don't  get 
better  before  long,  I  think  it's  best  to  have 
the  doctor  see  her." 

"To-be-sure,  we  will  do  all  we  can  for  her; 
but  I  hope  she'll  get  over  it  without  calling 
the  doctor." 

The  family  were  at  the  breakfast- table  when 
Chloe  came  down  the  next  morning.  Her 
father  heard  her  slow  step  on  the  stairs,  and 
noticed  her  heavy  eyes  and  languid  move- 
ments as  she  brushed  her  hair  behind  her 
ears  and  sat  down  to  the  table.  She  ate  her 
breakfast  wearily,  then  moved  back  her  chair 
and  sat  down  quietly  with  the  rest  while  he 
took  the  old  family  Bible  from  the  shelf  and 
read  one  of  the  Psalms  of  David. 

Having  finished  the  chapter,  he  replaced 
the  Bible,  then  turning,  with  folded  hands,  to 
the  children,  as  he  invariably  did,  said,  "We'll 
be  still  now,"  and  kneeled  to  pray.  He  prayed 


22  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


simply  but  so  earnestly  that  the  tears  came 
to  the  eyes  of  his  wife,  and  when  he  rose 
from  his  knees  he  saw  them  glistening  there. 
It  moved  him;  and,  to  hide  it,  he  put  on  his 
hat  and  went  out.  Then  Chloe  threw  herself 
upon  her  mother's  bed  and  went  to  sleep. 

"  Is  Chloe  going  to  school  to-day  ?" 

"Oh!  is  that  you,  Beulah?"  said  Kena,  the 
oldest  sister,  turning  at  the  sound  of  the  child- 
ish* voice.  "  Yes,  she'll  go,  I  guess.  Chloe, 
Chloe,  come !  here's  Beulah  called  for  you  to 
go  to  school." 

As  soon  as  Chloe  was  sufficiently  awake,  she 
got  off  the  bed,  and,  going  to  the  looking-glass, 
smoothed  her  hair  with  the  worn  brush  that 
hung  by  a  string  beneath,  put  on  her  sun- 
bonnet,  and  said,  "  Come,  Beulah :  I'm  ready 
now." 

"The  girls  have  all  gone  ahead,"  said  Beu- 
lah: "let's  run  and  catch  up  with  them." 

"I  can't  run,  3©ulah:  my  head  feels  so  bad 
all  the  time!  You  run  and  catch  up  with 
them,  and  I  will  walk  on  alone." 


I 

LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  23 


"No,  I  will  not,"  replied  Beulah.  "I  had 
rather  go  along  slow  with  you.  We'll  go  in 
and  get  some  water,  and  I  guess  you'll  feel 
better." 

It  was  where  they  stopped  every  day  to  get 
water,  and  the  kind  old  lady  that  lived  there 
always  gave  them  a  cordial  welcome.  She 
came  out  to  the  well ;  and  as  the  long  sweep 
went  high  up  into  the  air  and  the  mossy 
bucket  down  low  into  the  cool,  deep  well,  she 
said,  "Which  of  you  two  girls  is  the  oldest?" 

"We're  just  the  same  age,"  said  they,  in  a 
breath. 

"You  be?  Why,  Chloe  is  a  great  deal  the 
tallest !  We  shall  have  to  put  a  stone  on  your 
head,  Chloe,  to  keep  you  from  growing,  till 
Beulah  can  catch  up  with  you!" 

Chloe  instinctively  put  her  hand  to  her 
head  with  the  momentary  thought  that  the 
dreadful  feeling  of  weight  there  was  the 
"  stone"  already  weighing  her  down. 

Chloe  was  more  stupid  than  ever  in  school 
that  day;  and  the  teacher,  attributing  the 


24  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OE, 


cause  to  wilfulness  or  indolence,  lost  patience 
and  scolded  her  harshly,  and  even  shook  her 
rudely,  so  that  she  came  home,  her  heart 
swelling  with  grief  and  indignation.  This 
was  the  only  teacher  Chloe  ever  had  whom 
she  did  not  love. 

That  day  was  her  last  at  school.  The  dis- 
ease that  had  been  so  gradually  creeping  upon 
her  increased;  and  in  a  few  days  more  she 
was  very  ill. 

"I  thought,"  said  her  mother,  "that  there 
was  something  the  matter  with  her.  I  was 
afraid  she  would  be  sick  before  she  got  over 
it." 

"Well,"  replied  the  father,  in  his  mild  way, 
"we  will  make  the  best  of  it  now,  and  do  all 
we  can  for  her.  I  will  go  now  and  get  the 
doctor." 

Meanwhile,  the  little  spare  bedroom  was 
opened  and  made  ready,  and  thither  the  sick 
child  was  borne  and  laid  upon  the  bed.  The 
doctor  came, — a  gray-haired  man, — looked  at 
her  tongue,  examined  her  pulse,  and,  after 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  25 


asking  numerous  questions,  prescribed  suitable 
medicines,  and  left. 

The  news  of  Chloe's  illness  soon  spread 
through  the  neighbourhood ;  and  no  sooner  did 
good  old  Aunt  Molly  hear  of  it  than  she  put 
on  a  clean  checked  apron  and  went  over. 

"I  heard  Chloe  was  sick,"  said  she:  "-so  I 
thought  I'd  come  right  over.  Why,  the  dear, 
dear  child!  how  dreadful  sick  she  looks! 
What  does  the  doctor  say  about  her?" 

"He  says  she  will  have  to  be  sick 
a  while." 

"  I  declare !  the  dear  child !  and  she  always 
so  pleasant  and  playing  around  so  happy ! 
Well,"  she  added,  taking  a  pinch  of  snuff, 
"I'm  glad  you've  got  your  week's  washing 
done.  You'll  need  somebody  to  watch  to- 
night?" 

.  "  No :  we  can  take  care  of  her  to-night;  but, 
if  she  should  continue  to  be  sick  long,  I  sup- 
pose we  should  be  obliged  to  call  on  our 
neighbours  to  watch." 

By  this  time  others  had  come  in;  and  all, 


26  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


with  true  whole-heartedness,  that  characterizes 
the  people  of  that  part  of  the  country,  kindly 
and  freely  offered  themselves  and  their  ser- 
vices whenever  needed. 

Week  after  week  passed  away,  and  still 
they  watched  over  her, — the  sorrowing  and 
anxious  parents  and  sisters,  and  the  kind, 
sympathizing  neighbours, — hopelessly ;  for  the 
doctor  had  told  them  that  she  would  die. 
Chloe  knew  what  the  doctor  had  said:  she 
heard  her  father's  step  in  the  kitchen,  and 
knew  that  he  was  walking  to  and  fro  in  his 
great  sorrow:  she  knew  what  made  the  sad, 
tearful  faces  that  came  and  went  by  her  bed- 
side. Death  seemed  very  near  to  her,  and 
all  the  sin  and  wrong-doing  of  her  life  rose 
before  her  and  rested  heavily  upon  her  heart. 
She  saw  the  goodness  of  her  heavenly  Father, 
whom  she  had  forgotten  and  disobeyed;  she 
felt  that  she  could  mane  herself  no  better;  and 
how  could  she  die  and  meet  that  offended  God  ? 
Her  mother,  bending  over  her,  burst  into 
tears,  crying, — 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  27 


"  My  poor,  poor  child,  I  must  give  you  up !  1 
always  knew  I  loved  you  too  well.  You  have 
been  my  idol;  but  now  I  must  give  you  up!" 

"Oh,  mother,"  moaned  Chloe,  "I  am  not 
ready  to  die  yet!  I  am  so  wicked!" 

"Look  to  Jesus,"  replied  the  weeping  mo- 
ther, "look  to  Jesus.  Pray  to  him,  my  poor 
child:  he  will  forgive  your  sin,  he  will  ior- 
give :  he  is  both  able  and  willing.  I  can  do 
nothing  for  you,  but  Jesus  can.  Oh,  look  to 
him,  my  poor,  poor  child!" 

Often  and  earnestly  did  the  pious  parents 
talk  to  their  suffering  one  and  endeavour  to 
point  her  to  the  Lamb  of  God  that  taketh 
away  the  sins  of  the  world. 

Beulah  came  every  day  to  ask  after  Chloe; 
and  one  morning  Chloe  heard  her  come  into 
the  kitchen,  and  said, — 

"  Mother,  I  would  like*  to  see  Beulah :  I 
don't  want  any  one  in  here,  either." 

So  she  went  in,  and  the  two  were  left  alone 
together.  Beulah  approached  the  bed,  and 
said, — 


28  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 

.     "How  do  you  do,  Chloe?" 

"Oh,  Beulah,  I'm  very  sick;  and  I  wanted 
to  see  you,  because  the  doctor  thinks  I  won't 
live.  We  have  always  been  to  schoo^  to- 
gether, and  I  have  always  loved  you  so  much. 
Did  you  love  me  too,  Beulah?" 

"  Oh,  yes !"  said  Beulah,  bursting  into  tears. 

"Now  the  time  has  come  for  me  to  die.     I 

didn't  think  'twould  be  so  soon  when  we  were 

< 

playing  together  so  happy.  You  won't  forget 
me:  will  you,  Beulah?" 

"No,  no!"  sobbed  Beulah. 

"Be  a  good  girl,  Beulah,  and  don't  forget 
to  pray.  You  must  come  in  and  see  me  every 
day  as  long  as  I  live,  Beulah." 

Chloe  could  not  talk  to  Beulah  again;  for 
she  grew  worse  rapidly.  Her  head  and  face 
were  frightfully  swollen:  for  nineteen  days 
she  could  not  move  her  tongue,  and  could  not 
speak  to  any  one,  so  when  Beulah  came  in 
she  could  only  look  upon  her  earnestly  and 
sorrowfully.  She  endured  a  great  deal  of 
suffering,  and  so'  patiently  that  the  story  of  it 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  29 


and  her  dreadful  illness  spread  far  and  near, 
and  strangers  came  from  remote  parts  of  the 
town  to  see  the  child  of  whom  they  had  heard 
so  much.  As  the  disease  increased,  she  lay 
for  many  hours  of  the  day  in  a  kind  of.  stupor 
almost  deathlike:  at  times  she  would  open 
her  eyes  and  recognise  those  around  her,  but 
would  soon  relapse  into  unconsciousness. 

The  doctor  said,  one  day,  that  her  hair 
must  be  cut  off  close  to  her  head.  Chloe  had 
been  not  a  little  proud  of  her  hair,  for  it  was 
very  beautiful  and  had  always  been  the  envy 
of  her  schoolmates,  because  it  was  so  long, 
even  and  glossy.  Aunt  Molly  was  there 
when  it  was  cut  off;  and  as  it  fell  in  long, 
beautiful  tresses,  she  got  the  steelyard  and 
weighed  it. 

"I  declare!"  said  she:  "five  ounces!" 

Her  mother  sighed  as  she  gathered  it  up 
and  laid  it  away  to  keep.  When  Chloe  awoke, 
she  put  her  hand  to  her  head,  and  in  a  mo- 
ment comprehended  what  had  been  done. 

She  tried  to  weep ;  but  sh£  could  not  move 

3* 


30  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OP.; 


a  muscle  of  her  swollen  face.  Her  mother 
left  the  room,  because  she  could  not  endure 
the  sight,  while  Aunt  Molly  tried  to  soothe 
her. 

"Don't  feel  bad,  dear,"  she  said,  "about 
your  hair.  'Twas  best  to  cut  it  off.  Sick 
folks  very  often  have  to  have  their  hair  cut 
off;  but  it  always  grows  again  a  great  deal 
nicer  than  it  was  before." 

Chloe  was  pacified,  and  in  a  few  moments 
was  unconscious  again. 

Days  passed  away, — days  of  weariness  and 
sorrow,  the  dark  wing  of  death  descending, 
the  light  in  the  brown  cottage  growing  dim 
and  dimmer!  The  old  doctor  said,  "It  is 
useless  for  me  to  see  her  again :  I  can  do  no 
more  for  her.  To  all  appearance,  inward 
mortification  has  already  commenced:  if  it 
has,  it  will  be  impossible  to  preserve  her  body 
any  time  at  all,  and  it  is  very  necessary  that 
you  make  preparations  for  her  burial  imme- 
diately. Still,  if  there  should  be  a  change  for 
the  better,  let  me1  know." 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  31 


The  cloth  was  obtained,  and  the  dress- 
maker came  to  make  the  last  garment  for 
little  Chloe.  The  hour  was  approaching.  The 
mother,  alone  with  God,  wildly  prayed:  the 
bitter,  bitter  cup!  she  could  not,  could  not 
drink-  it!  But  again  she  prayed  tearfully, 
and  entreated  forgiveness,  and  asked  for  sub- 
mission and  for  strength  of  willingness  to 
give  up  her  child.  The  struggle  was  over: 
she  yielded  her  out  of  her  heart  to  God,  and 
then  the  answer  came, — strength  for  the  hour 
and  resignation  to  his  will;  and  when  she 
stood  again  by  the  bedside,  a  halo  of  peace 
surrounded  her, — perfect  rest  and  a  sweet 
trust  in  Him  who  "doeth  all  things  well." 

But  Chloe  did  not  die  that  day,  or  the 
next ;  and  still  she  lingered,  till  a  ray  of  hope 
cheered  their  hearts,  and  the  doctor  was  speed- 
ily sent  for. 

"Well,"  said  he,  "she  is  no  worse;  and 
certainly  her  symptoms  are  a  little  more 
nopeful.  Strange !  I  never  in  all  my  prac- 
tice saw  any  thing  like  it.  'It's  a  miracle! 


32  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OK, 

If  she  lives  it  will  be  because  she  is  to  be 
spared  for  something  remarkable." 

Still  she  lived,  and  lay  upon  the  bed  day 
after  day,  her  weakened  and  half-scattered 
senses  gradually  returning  to  her,  until  she 
was  so  much  better  that  the  white  robe  which 
had  been  made  was  laid  away  where  things 
seldom  used  were  kept.  Then  the  doctor 
said  "she  might  sit  up  a  few  minutes."  Aunt 
Molly,  happening  in  at  the  right  moment, 
wrapped  her  up  in  a  blanket,  took  her  in  her 
arms  and  sat  down  with  her  before  the  window. 
How  new  and  strange  every  thing  seemed! 
The  whole  landscape  looked  wider,  and  the 
hills  seemed  stretching  away  at  an  endless 
distance.  She  could  see  the  garden,  and  the 
apple-tree  always  called  "mother's  tree," 
because  mother  particularly  liked  the  fruit  it 
bore.  They  were  white  apples,  and  were  now 
about  ripe. 

"When  she  was  again  laid  upon  the  bed,  she 
was  conscious  of  a  new  and  strange  feeling  of 
happiness.  Her  mind  went  back  to  gather  up 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  S3 


the  events  of  her  illness,  and  she  remembered 
how  near  death  had  been  to  her,  and  how  she 
had  borne  the  burden  of  her  own  sin.  Where 
was  it  now  ?  Gone, — all  gone ;  and  in  its  place 
was  a  love  for  the  Saviour,  so  sincere  that  she 
felt  that  she  could  bear  all  suffering  and  every 
other  trial  patiently  for  his  sake.  Then  Chloe 
knew  she  was  a  Christian.  Oh,  the  joy  and 
happiness  of  that  moment!  Her  mother 
clasped  her  in  her  arms,  saying,  "  You've  had 
a  dreadful  illness,  Chloe;  but,  if  it  has  made 
you  a  Christian,  I  don't  regret  it!" 

When  they  gathered  around  the  family  altar 
the  next  morning,  the  door  of  Chloe's  room 
was  left  open,  and  she  heard  her  father's  voice 
go  up  in  prayer,  tremulous  with  emotion, — 
with  thankfi^Hps  that  their  child,  "like  Isaac 
of  old,  had  been  restored  to  them,  and  that  she 
had  found  the  pearl  of  great  price,  the  peace 
that  passeth  all  understanding."  Ofte.n  iu 
after-years  the  mother  said,  "I  gave  you  up 
once,  Chloe;  but  I  took  you  back  again.  I 


34  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 

am  afraid  I  never  shall  be  so  willing  again  to 
give  you  up." 

As  soon  as  Chloe  was  strong  enough,  her 
father  put  her  in  a  wheelbarrow,  and  she  held 
on  to  the  back  with  her  thin,  white  hands, 
while  he  trundled  her  away  to  see  Beulah. 
After  that,  the  other  neighbours  claimed  her : 
so  she  had  more  than  one  ride  upon  the 
wheelbarrow.  When  she  was  able  to  ramble 
over  the  fields  again  with  Beulah,  she  was  a 
changed  child.  There  was  a  new  gentleness 
in  her  eye,  a  new  peace  in  her  expressive  face; 
for  she  felt  the  divine  presence  around  her 
giving  life,  joy  and  beauty  to  all  things. 

Thus  passed  away  the  dark  cloud  from  the 
little  brown  cottage  by  the  roadside;  but  the 
radiance  of  its  silver  lining  H?ft  within ! 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  35 


III. 
THE  EEMOVAL. 

CHLOE'S  father  had  bought  the  little  house 
where  they  lived  of  Mr.  Loomis,  a  gentleman 
who  lived  near  them.  He  had  given  all  the 
money  he  had,  the  precious  savings  of  years, — 
money  every  coin  of  which  he  had  honestly 
worked  for;  and  he  was  glad  to  lay  it  down 
to  buy  a  home  for  those  he  so  dearly  loved. 
Still,  it  was  not  enough ;  and  Mr.  Loomis  took 
a  mortgage  for  the  rest  of  the  amount.  Then 
with  brave  hearts  they  set  forth  to  cancel  the 
debt,  labouring  hard  and  living  with  strict 
economy,  looking  forward 'to  the  time  when 
they  would  be  independent  and  happy  in  a 
"home  of  their  own."  But  they  had  met  with 
discouragements.  They  lost  their  only  cow; 
and,  as  it  was  a  part  of  their  dependence,  an- 
other had  to  be  procured.  Steady  work  could 


36  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


not  always  be  obtained ;  and  this  year  nothing 
could  be  paid,  for  all  and  more  than  all  must 
go  to  meet  the  expenses  of  Chloe's  illness. 
Mr.  Loomis  found  himself  in  need  of  money. 

Squire  B ,  the  merchant,  would  buy  the 

place,  and,  to  "accommodate,"  proposed  an 
exchange;.  He  "owned  a  place,"  he  said, 
"  over  east,  a  few  miles,  that  would  make  him 
a  snug  little  home, — a  house,  garden  and 
meadow, — which  he  could  have  for  one  hundred 
and  thirty  dollars,  if  he  liked  it."  This 
seemed  to  strike  the  shoemaker  favourably, 
although  he  did  not  like  the  idea  of  giving  up 
his  present  home.  Still,  he  thought  it  would 
do  no  harm  to  go  and  see  the  place;  and  one 
bright  morning  he  started  on  foot,  a  distance 
of  seven  miles.  He  found  another  brown 
house,  smaller,  perhaps,  than  the  one  in  which 
he  was  living,  and,  as  the  merchant  had  re- 
presented, a  good  garden-spot  and  a  nice  level 
meadow.  The  country  round  about  was  hilly, 
and  the  neighbours  were  not  very  near;  but 
he  had  noticed,  as  he  passed,  the  large,  culti- 


LIGHT    BEYOXD    THE    CLOUDS.  37 


vated  farms,  and  had  come  to  the  conclusion 
that  they  were  rich  farmers;  and  that,  ho 
thought,  would  be  favourable  for  his  business. 
He  saw  a  district  school-house  close  by,  but 
learned  that  the  "nearest  meeting"  was  two 
miles  distant.  Here  was  an  objection;  but, 
then,  only  one  hundred  and  thirty  dollars !  It 
would  leave  him  but  thirty  dollars  in  debt, 
which  he  could  soon  pay  if  he  was  prospered; 
and  when  it  was  all  paid  he  would  work  and 
get  "something  ahead,"  and  then  find  another 
home  "near  meeting."  All  this  he  thought 
over  while  walking  home,  and  became  quite 
well  satisfied  with  the  proposed  change.  He 
gave  a  favourable  report  to  his  wife  and 
daughters,  and  soon  after  the  bargain  was 
completed  and  arrangements  made  for  their 
removal  the  ensuing  spring. 

There  was  general  regret  throughout  the 
neighbourhood  when  it  was  made  known;  for 
the  shoemaker  and  his  family  were  beloved  by 
all,  and  they  themselves  dreaded  the  thought 
of  leaving.  The  mother  could  hardly  be  re- 


38  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


coriciled  to  the  change.  She  loved  the  place 
where  they  had  lived.  Every  thing  around  it 
was  dear  to  her.  The  white  rose-bush  which 
her  own  hands  had  planted  and  trained  over 
the  window,  her  fruit-trees,  her  currant- 
bushes  and  thrifty  garden, — each  had  some 
association  connected  with  it.  Then  she  had 
become  attached  to  the  neighbours;  and  their 
kindness  and  sympathy  during  the  trying  time 
of  her  child's  illness  had  made  them  doubly 
dear.  "It  was  like  breaking  her  heart,"  she 
said,  "to  go;  but,  as  it  seemed  for  the  best, 
she  would  try  to  be  reconciled." 

The  eighteenth  of  April  was  the  day  fixed 
.'or  their  departure.  On  the  seventeenth  it 
snowed  all  day  and  all  night,  and  in  the  morn- 
ing the  prospect  was  dreary  enough, — roads 
and  fields  one  unbroken  sheet  of  snow:  so 
their  goods  had  to  be  loaded  upon  sleds  in- 
stead of  carts.  Mr.  Loomis  drove  the  family 
in  a  long  lumber  box-sleigh,  and  the  father 
led  the  cow  behind.  They  could  not  keep  back 
the  tears  when  they  went  out  of  the  empty 


LIGHT    BEYOND    THE    CLOUDS. 


house,  and  they  flowed  afresh  wht-n  their 
friends  and  neighbours  came  to  the  doors  and 
windows  to  wave  regretful  farewells  as  they 
passed.  Chloe  was  glad  that  they  did  not 
pass  the  house  where  Beulah  lived.  These 
two  little  girls  had  had  their  parting  all  to 
themselves  days  before.  Beulah's  father  was 
very  soon  to  take  his  family  away  to  Ohio, 
and  they  did  not  expect  to  meet  again  in  a 
long,  long  time, — if  ever;  and  Chloe  felt  that 
the  sight  of  Beulah's  face  again  would  cause 
her  to  sob  aloud. 

They  drove  on  slowly  until  they  had  gone 
iway  from  every  thing  that  looked  familiar. 
The  roads  were  hilly  and  rough,  and  in  some 
places  the  snow  was  badly  drifted.  Suddenly 
shouts  were  heard  from  the  forward  team. 
One  of  the  loads  had  turned  over  into  the 
snow.  The  men  all  ran  to  the  rescue;  and 
it  seemed  a  long  time  before  they  came  back, 
with  red  faces  and  benumbed  fingers,  to  drive 
quietly  on  again. 

At  length  they  passed  a  red  house  at  the 


40  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 

foot  of  a  hill ;  they  could  see  the  smoke  issuing 
trora  the  chimney  of  a  house  upon  the  summit; 
and  midway  between  the  two  was  another 
house,  at  which  the  first  loaded  team  had 
stopped.  That  was  their  new  home.  But 
how  dreary  it  looked  as  they  drove  up, — that 
low,  brown  house,  with  the  cold,  white  snow 
drifted  around  it !  The  men  made  a  path  with 
their  feet  and  brushed  the  snow  from  before 
the  door,  and  they  went  in.  Oh,  how  poor 
and  cold  looked  that  humble  room!  The 
mother  looked  around,  passed  on  into  the  bed- 
room, stood  before  the  window  and  wept. 
The  children  did  not  follow  her,  but  wrapped 
their  cloaks  closer  around  them  and  remained 
in  the  kitchen  to  see  the  unloading.  Chloe 
»vent  to  the  window  and  looked  out.  The  only 
cheerful  thing  in  sight  was  the  smoke  still  issu- 
ing from  the  chimney  upon  the  top  of  the  hill. 
The  old-fashioned  house  itself  stood  out  in 
bold  relief  against  the  surrounding  snow  and 
the  dim,  white  horizon  beyond.  She  noticed 
the  roof,  quaintly  sloping  down  over  a  piazza, 


LIGHT    BEYOND    THE    CLOUDS.  41 


the  slender  posts  of  which  she  could  plainly 
see,  and  the  poplar-trees  in  front;  and  she 
wondered  what  kind  of  people  they  were  that 
lived  within.  Then  her  thoughts  for  the  mo- 
ment wandered  away,  and  there  passed  over 
her  a  vague  desire  for  something  more  than 
she  yet  had  known.  It  was  a  new  and  strange 
sensation,  something  she  could  not  grasp, — a 
longing,  undefined  and  mysterious,  for  some- 
thing better  than  she  yet  had  even  dreamed 
of.  She  was  aroused  by  her  father's  voice, 
saying,  "Where's  your  mother?"  He  had 
come  in  to  ask  some  question  about  the  goods. 

"She's  in  the  bedroom,"  was  the  answer. 
He  went  to  the  door :  she  was  still  weeping. 
He  hesitated,  but  he  would  not  disturb  her, 
and  the  children  heard  his  deep  sigh  as  he 
turned  away.  The  place  did  not  look  so  de- 
sirable to  him  as  on  the  pleasant  morning 
when  he  had  first  seen  it. 

But  the  arranging  of  the  household  goods 
diverted  their  minds ;  and  when  the  cooking- 
stove  was  put  up,  the  clock  placed  in  the  cor- 

4* 


42  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OK, 


ner,  and  a  shelf  fixed  for  the  family  Bible,  the 
room  seemed  comfortable  and  homelike. 

In  a  few  days  the  snow  melted  away,  the 
days  became  bright  and  sunny,  and  spring 
birds  were  heard  in  the  trees  around.  The 
father  planted  his  garden,  while  the  mother 
made  beds  and  sowed  in  them  the  flower-seeds 
that  she  had  brought  from  the  old  place. 
And  after  all,  their  new  home  was  in  a  pleasant 
spot,  with  its  broad  and  green  meadow-views, 
and  dim,  vrhispering  wood,  and,  overlooking 
all,  the  old-fashioned  house  upon  the  hill, 
around  which  the  road  curved  and  was  lost  to 
sight. 

I  think  that  whoever  built  that  quaint  old 
piazzaed  house  there  possessed  a  love  for  the 
beautiful;  for  on  either  side  a  glorious  land- 
scape meets  the  eye.  There  are  tree-covered 
hills,  dark  with  their  own  shadows;  beyond, 
other  hills  sloping  down  into  shaded  valleys, 
and  still  other  hills  rising  upon  hills,  dreamy 
and  indistinct  in  the  distance,  but  radiant  witn 
sunlight,  like  the  misty  future  towards  which 


LIGHT    BEYOND    THE    CLOUDS.  43 


Cliioe's  young  heart  was  looking.  And  then 
the  gorgeous  sunsets  that  for  so  many  long 
years  have  blessed  the  old  house  standing 
there, — tree-crowned  hill  and  lowly  valley 
bathed  alike  in  the  baptism  of  golden  light 
and  shade ! 

All  this,  and  more,  Chloe  saw  every  night 
when  her  little  bare  feet  climbed  the  hill  to 
go  to  the  pasture  after  the  cow ;  and  as  the 
gold  of  the  sunse't  was  lost  in  the  gray  of  the 
twilight,  and  the  cow  with  its  tinkling  bell 
came  slowly  home  around  the  curved  road 
upon  the  summit  of  the  hill,  and  the  sounds 
of  evening  floated  dreamily  up,  her  heart  un- 
consciously drank  in  the  pensive  beauty  of  the 
hour.  Sweetly  and  silently  Nature's  influ- 
ences blended  with  her  child-thoughts,  opened 
a  new  world  of  feeling,  and  helped  to  form 
and  shape  her  after-character. 


44  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OE, 


IT. 

THEIR  NEW   HOME. 

THE  children  enjoyed  the  new  place.  There 
was  a  pleasant  novelty  in  going  to  a  strange 
school-house,  finding  new  playmates  and  ex- 
ploring unfamiliar  woods.  Chlo.e's  little 
friends  were  delighted  to  guide  her  to  their 
favourite  haunts, — sometimes  to  a  grassy  nook 
deep  in  the  shady  wood,  or  perhaps  to  a  bub- 
bling spring  under  the  spreading  old  tree,  or 
to  the  sunny  side  of  some  far-looking  hill, 
where  the  summer  winds  blew  and  the  white 
clouds  drifted  far  above  their  heads. 

Then  Chloe  would  tell  them  stories  of  her 
old  home,  and  of  dear  little  Beulah :  how  they 
always  went  to  school  together,  sat  upon  the 
same  seat  and  learned  the  same  lessons;  what 
baskets  "heaping  full"  of  blackberries  and 
whortleberries  they  used  to  get ;  and  how  they 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  45 


made  a  play-house  under  the  apple-tree  by  the 
orchard-wall, — that  great  old  apple-tree,  with 
its  branches  reaching  over  almost  to  the  road ; 
and  the  air  would  ring  with' childish  laughter 
as  she  told  about  the  apples  that  looked  so 
beautiful,  but  tasted  so  that  "nobody  couldn't 
eat  'em,  anyway,"  and  how  she  and  Beulah 
would  clap  their  hands  and  laugh  at  the 
travellers  who,  riding  by,  dusty  and  tired, 
often  stopped  to  pick  them,  but  would  very 
soon  be  making  all  sorts  of  wry  faces  and  ex- 
clamations. 

Then  she  told  them  how  very,  very  sick  she 
had  been,  and  how  her  hair  had  to  be  cut  off 
close  to  her  head,  which  made  it  so  short  now ; 
how  the  doctor  said  that  she  could  not  live; 
how  full  of  grief  her  mother  was  at  the  thought 
of  losing  her,  and  how  her  grave-clothes,  which 
she  never  wore,  had  been  made  for  her;  and 
sometimes  she  would  lead  them  to  her  home, 
and  they  would  follow  her  softly  into  the  little 
bedroom,  and  a  shadow  would  pass  over  their 
bright  y^ung  faces  as  she  raised  the  cover  of 


46  CHLOE  LAXKTON;  OR, 


the  red  box  and  they  looked  upon  the  white 
robe,  so  smoothly  folded,  lying  within. 

Sometimes,  too,  she  talked  to  them  about 
Jesus  Christ;  for  Chloe  had  not  forgotten  that 
she  was  a  Christian.  Every  day,  she,  with 
Rachel,  the  second  sister,  went  away  up-stairs 
to  pray  alone  together.  It  would  have  been 
a  pleasant  scene  for  one  to  look  in  upon, — that 
low,  unfinished  chamber,  the  girl  Rachel  kneel- 
ing there,  and  the  child  Chloe  by  her  side,  her 
hands  clasped  and  her  young  head  bowed  in 
prayer.  I  have  thought  that,  if  ever  angels 
stoop  to  listen,  it  is  when  the  simple  prayer 
goes  up  to  heaven  from  the  trusting  heart  of 
childhood. 

They  had  been  in  their  new  home  several 
weeks  before  Chloe,  on  account  of  the  unsettled 
state  of  the  roads,  could  go  to  meeting.  When 
at  last  she  did  go,  it  was  with  her  father  and 
sisters  Rachel  and  Nancy.  It  was  one  of 
those  clear,  serene  Sabbath  mornings  which, 
as  has  been  said,  "come  nowhere  so  perfectly 
as  in  old  Connecticut;"  the  trees  were  putting 


LIGHT    BEYOND    THE    CLOUDS.  47 


forth  their  green  leaves  and  the  birds  were 
making  their  nests  among  them,  and  Chloe 
thought  that  the  earth  never  before  looked  so 
beautiful.  They  crossed  a  brook  on  the  way, 
and  the  ripple  of  its  waters  sounded  to  her 
like  the  sweetest  music.  She  was  so  happy  that 
she  felt  as  if  she  could  almost  fly  over  the 
ground ;  and  the  walk  was  so  delightful  that  it 
seemed  but  a  short  time  until  they  came  to 
the  maple-trees,  under  whose  shade  the  girls 
stopped  and  put  on  their  white  stockings  and 
morocco  shoes,  which  they  had  brought  with 
them,  and  hid  their  "every-day  ones,"  that 
they  had  worn  to  walk  in,  under  the  fence, 
until  they  came  back.  Then  they  walked  on 
to  the  church. 

It  was  a  large,  unpainted  building,  with  no 
steeple,  and  no  pillars  in  front,  and  Chloe 
thought,  did  not  look  at  all  like  a  meeting- 
house. 

"Why,  father,"  said  she,  "that  a  meeting- 
house ?  It  don't  look  like  one." 

"Well,"  he  replied,  "it's  a  meeting-house, — 


48  CHLOE    LAXKTOX;    OR, 


an  old-fashioned  one, — built  a  great  many 
years  ago." 

There  was  no  porch  in  front;  and,  as  they 
went  in,  Chloe  saw  the  gallery-stairs  on  each 
side,  and  a  broad  aisle  extending  through  the 
centre  of  the  house.  The  people  were  mostly 
strangers  to  them,  except  the  few  that  came 
from  their  own  neighbourhood.  A  man  who 
knew  them  led  them  up  the  aisle  and  seated 
them  in  a  large,  square  pew  with  seats  all 
around  it.  The  inside  of  the  church  was  very 
old-fashioned,  and  looked  very  strange  to  Chloe, 
who  wanted  to  gaze  around;  but  the  sides  of 
the  pew  were  so  high  that  she  could  not  see 
much :  so  she  sat  down  very  demurely,  and 
listened  to  the  sermon  as  attentively  as  she 
could.  She  told  her  mother  and  Eena  about 
it  when  she  got  home,  and  said  she  had  en- 
joyed the  day  very  much. 

Meanwhile,  the  mother  tried  to  feel  con- 
tented. The  woman  who  lived  in  the  nearest 
house  had  made  them  a  visit :  she  was  kind 
and  pleasant ;  and  others  whom  she  had  met 


LIGHT   BEYOND    THE   CLOUDS. 


seemed  very  cordial.  But  when  the  twilight 
hour  came,  and  the  milking  was  done,  and 
she  sat  in  her  straight-backed  rocking-chair 
before  the  door,  her  thoughts  would  go  back 
to  the  same  hour  at  the  old  place,  when  Aunt 
Molly  and  other  friends,  with  their  checked 
aprons  and  snuff-boxes,  were  accustomed  to 
"run  in"  for  a  quiet  country  gossip.  But 
she  tried  to  keep  back  her  regretful  feelings, 
for  she  saw  that  her  husband  was  becoming 
quite  contented.  His  garden  was  growing 
thriftily,  and  orders  for  work  began  to  come 
in  from  the  farmers  around ;  and  before  the 
summer  was  gone  he  had  made  up  the  thirty 
dollars  which  he  owed  for  his  place.  He 
could  not  rest  then  until  he  had  paid  it  to 

Squire  B .     So  one  pleasant  morning  he 

put  on  his  Sunday  suit,  and,  with  the  money 
safely  stowed  away  in  his  pocket,  started  on 
toot  to  go  back  to  his  old  home. 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  when  he  re- 
turned, and  he  looked  heated  and  tired  from 

D  5 


50  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


Ins  long  walk.  He  sat  down,  took  off  his 
shoes,  and  said, — 

"Well,  the  place  is  our's  now.  I've  paid  the 
squire  all  off." 

"Did  you  see  our  old  house?"  was  the  first 
question. 

"Yes:  I  went  down  into  that  neighbour- 
hood on  purpose.  It  looks  pleasant  there :  I 
don't  think  I  ever  saw  the  fruit-trees  hang  so 
full  as  they  do  now." 

"Who  lives  there?" 

"I  don't  know.  I  asked  no  questions  I 
didn't  want  to." 

"Oh,  father,"  said  Chloe,  "did  you  see 
Beulah?" 

"  No :  Beulah  has  gone  away  a  great  many 
miles  out  West.  I  saw  Aunt  Molly,"  he  con- 
tinued, speaking  to  his  wife,  "and  Miss 
Durand.  They  wanted  to  know  how  we  got 
along  here, — how  you  liked  it,  and  how  the 
girls  did, — and  said  they  would  give  a  good 
deal  to  see  you  again." 

"Oh,  father,"  said  Chloe,  "did  you  look  to 


LIGHT   BEYOND    THE   CLOUDS.  51 


see  if  our  play -house  was  there,  that  we  made 
by  the  wall,  under  the  apple-tree?" 

"No;  I  didn't  think  any  thing  about  it.  It 
looked  pleasant  there,"  he  continued;  "but, 
after  all,  if  this  place  was  only  near  the  meet- 
ing-house, I  should  like  it  about  as  well. 
Anyway,  it's  our  own,  and  we  are  out  of  debt. 
I  feel  now  as  if  we  might  lay  up  something 
for  our  old  age." 

"Well,"  replied  his  wife,  "I  hope  the  Lord 
will  prosper  us,  let  us  live  where  we  will." 

She  sighed  as  she  spoke;  for  it  was  her 
great  source  of  regret  to  live  where  she  could 
not  attend  a  place  of  worship  every  Sab- 
bath. She  could  not  walk  the  two  miles  to 
the  church,  and  could  only  go  when  her  hus- 
band found  an  opportunity  for  her  to  ride, 
— which  was  seldom.  Neither  could  Reua 
go  very  often;  and  for  that  reason  the  kind 
father  was  very  anxious  to  find  another  home 
for  them.  He  had  noticed,  during  his  Sunrlay- 
morning  walks  to  church,  a  house  that  he  liked 
very  much.  It  was  only  a  quarter  of  a  mile 


52  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR. 


from  the  meeting-house, — a  cozy  little  place, 
with  a  uleasant  yard  before  it.  He  learned 
that  it  was  for  sale,  and  he  hoped  that  he  might 
be  able  to  get  it.  But  when  he  heard  the  price 
— nine  hundred  dollars — he  instantly  relin- 
quished the  idea,  for  he  knew  that  it  was  more 
than  he  could  pay.  After  that,  he  heard  of 
other  pleasant  little  homesteads  for  sale,  but 
with  each  there  was  something  to  prevent  his 
buying ;  and,  as  time  passed  away,  they  began 
to  be  attached  to  the  place  where  they  lived. 
At  length  they  were  contented,  and  felt  it  was 
to  be  their  home,  and  all  thought  of  going 
elsewhere  was  given  up. 

The  next  year  after  their  removal,  Chloe's 
father  built  an  addition  to  the  house, — a  room 
for  a  kitchen  and  a  small  pantry.  He  did  the 
work  himself,  for  he  was  naturally  ingenious 
and  had  a  taste  for  "carpenter  work."  The 
next  year,  when  Chloe  was  thirteen  years  old, 
he  added  a  tiny  bedroom  to  the  new  kitchen. 
While  her  father  was  at  'work,  she  amused 


LIGHT    BEYOND    THE    CLOUDS.  53 


herself  by  running  around  upon  the  beams 
of  the  foundation  which  he  had  laid. 

"Father,"  said  she,  "mav  I  not  have  this 
for  my  room?" 

"I  don't  know,"  said  he :  "we'll  see." 
Did  there  come  to  her  then  a  foreshadow- 
ing of  her  after-life,  as  it  was  to  be,  in  that 
little  room? 


54        '  CHLOE  LAXKTOX;  OR, 


V. 
CLOUDS  AGAIN. 

LIKE  a  beautiful  dream,  another  year  of 
Chloe's  life  passed  away.  Xancy  and  she  had 
learned  every  winding  walk  through  the  deep 
old  wood  and  knew  every  grassy  path  across 
the  fields  and  over  the  hill-sides.  To  use  her 
own  words,  they  were  "happy  as  queens, 
going  nutting  and  berrying,  and  in  the  even- 
ing hearing  father  tell  stories  about  his  own 
childhood," — all  the  while  these  golden  mo- 
ments passing  away  so  fleetly,  never  to  return. 
ISTancy  was  only  two  years  older  than  Chloe; 
and  they  loved  each  other  with  a  love  that 
only  sisters  can  know.  She  was  now  about  six- 
teen, and,  in  accordance  with  the  school  laws 
of  the  State,  the  coming  winter  was  to  be  the 
last  that  she  would  spend  with  Chloe  in  the 
little  school-house  at  the  foot  of  the  hill.  She 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  55 


had  taken  a  severe  cold,  and  her  parents  no- 
ticed that  as  the  cold  wore  away  the  cough 
remained;  but  she  "felt  well,"  she  said,  and 
she  "meant  to  go  through  with  that  arith- 
metic this  winter,  and  finish  that  sampler." 

So  she  went  to  school  with  Chloe,  and 
between  school-hours  she  worked  with  her 
needle,  and  spent  part  of  the  long  evenings 
with  her  slate,  pencil  and  arithmetic.  Still 
the  cough  remained ;  and  her  mother  said, — 

"  It  will  not  do  for  you,  Nancy,  with  that 
cough,  to  be  out  in  the  snow  so  much." 

So  she  ceased  attending  school, — for  a  few 
days,  as  she  thought, — and  her  arithmetic  was 
closed,  with  the  pencil  inside,  until  she  could 
go  again.  But  the  cough  grew  worse,  until 
they  were  alarmed  and  sent  for  the  physician. 
He  prepared  medicine  for  her,  and  came  to 
see  her  occasionally,  but  did  not  speak  en- 
couragingly of  her  recovery.  So  the  winter 
'1  away,  the  school  was  closed,  and 
Xamy  had  not  "been  through"  her  arith- 
metic, as  she  had  hoped. 


56  CHLOE    LANKTON,    OR, 


The  parents  were  talking  one  day,  and  the 
mother  said, — 

"I  don't  see  as  the  doctor  is  doing  Nancy 
any  good.  Her  cough  isn't  a  bit  better  than 
it  was  in  the  winter;  and  she's  certainly  grow- 
ing weaker." 

"I  know  it,"  replied  the  father;  "and -I 
have  been  thinking  that  I  wished  the  doctor 

in  B could  see  her:  I  believe  he 

would  help  her,  if  any  one  could.  I  might 
take  her  down  there,  I  suppose.  I  could 
carry  her  right  to  her  uncle's,  you  know,  and 
the  doctor  could  come  in  there  and  see  her." 

"Yes,"  replied  his  wife,  "that's  a  good 
plan:  she  will  like  to  visit  uncle's  folks,  and 
the  ride,  perhaps,  will  do  her  good." 

So  he  hired  a  horse  of  one  of  the  neigh- 
bouring farmers,  and  when  they  started  early 
in  the  morning  her  mother  went  out  to  the 
wagon  to  see  that  she  was  nicely  wrapped  up, 
and  to  fold  a  blanket  around  her  feet.  She 
was  very  anxious  all  day,  and,  as  evening  ap- 
proached, her  anxiety  increased. 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  57 


"Why  don't  your  father  come?"  she  said 
to  the  girls.  "  Nancy  ought  not  to  be  out  so 
late  as  this!" 

Just  then  the  sound  of  wheels  was  heard, 
and  she  went  out  to  meet  them. 

""Why,  father!"  she  exclaimed,  "where's 
Nancy?" 

"I  had  to  leave  her,"  was  the  reply:  "the 
doctor  wouldn't  do  any  thing  for  her  unless  I 
did.  He  said  he  couldn't  tell  any  thing  about 
her  by  seeing  her  once.  I  shouldn't  have 
stayed  so  late  if  she'd  been  coming  with  me." 

"How  long  is  she  going  to  stay?"  asked 
the  mother. 

"Two  or  three  weeks." 

"Well,"  she  replied,  "uncle's  folks  will  take 
good  care  of  her,  and  perhaps  it's  for  the 
best." 

At  the  end  of  two  weeks  he  hired  the  horse 
again,  and  himself  and  wife  went  down  after 
Nancy.  They  returned  in  the  afternoon  of 
the  next  day,  and  Chloe  was  the  first  to  spring 
to  the  door  to  meet  her  sister.  Could  that 


5S  CHLOE    LANKTOX;    OK, 


pale,  thin  girl,  walking  so  wearily  up  the  path, 
be  Nancy  ?  She  hardly  spoke  as  she  came  in, 
but  immediately  sat  clown  in  her  mother's 
rocking-chair ;  and  then  they  heard  her  hollow 
cough  and  saw  how  changed  she  was.  Their 
mother  came  in,  looking  very  sad,  and  went 
into  the  bedroom  to  take  off  her  things.  Their 
father  had  gone  to  take  the  horse  home;  but 
he  soon  came  in,  and  tears  were  in  his  eyes  as 
he  sat  down  to  take  off  his  shoes. 

"Are  you  very  tired,  Nancy?"  he  said. 
"Yes,  sir,"  she  replied:  "I  am  some  tired." 
There  was  very  little  said.    "Words  were  not 
needed  to  tell  the  sad  truth      Nancy  was  sent 
early  to  bed,  and  then  Eena  said,— 
"You  found  Nancy  worse,  mother?" 
"Yes,"  she  replied,  trying  to  command  her 
voice;  "the  doctor  said  he  couldn't  do  any  thing 
for  her.     I'm  'most  sorry  that  we  let  her  go 
down  there  at  all." 

Chloe  was  almost  awed  by  the  strange  sad- 
ness and  stillness.  She  felt  the  cloud  resting 
upon  her  humble  home,  and  she  went  to  her 


LIGHT    BEYCND    THE    CLOUDS.  59 


bed  to  weep.  But  Nancy  was  brighter  in  the 
morning,  and  all,  though  sad,  were  calm  and 
even  cheerful.  The  days  were  becoming  warm 
and  spring-like,  and  they  hoped  that  the  mild 
weather  would  benefit  her.  Nancy  told  her 
sisters  the  pleasant  things  of  her  visit,  and,  as 
they  became  accustomed  to  her  weak  state, 
she  began  to  tell  what  the  doctor  had  said  and 
done. 

"One  day,"  said  she,  "he  brought  in  an- 
other doctor  to  see  me.  I  sat  there,  working 
on  my  sampler.  I  had  just  begun  the  house; 
and  he  said,  '  Making  a  meeting-house  ?  What 
do  you  want  of  a  meeting-house?'  I  said,  'It 
isn't  a  meeting-house:  it's  a  house!  I  shall 
want  a  house  to  live  in.'  Then  he  said,  'Well, 
you  won't  want  one  long.'  I  thought  to  my- 
self that  I  might  live  longer  than  he,  after 
all." 

The  spring  came  on,  with  its  new  and  beau- 
tiful life  of  green  leaves  and  singing-birds;  but 
Chloe  felt  not  its  beauty.  She  went,  as  was 
her  wont,  down  into  the  meadows,  after  the 


60  CHLOE  LANK-TON;  OR, 


ripe  strawberries,  but  she  wept  because  she 
must  go  alone.  Then  she  picked  the  largest 
and  ripest  of  the  berries,  and  placed  them  on 
the  top  for  Nancy,  who  would  meet  her  at  the 
door  to  see  how  many  she  had  found,  and  to 
ask  which  way  she  went,  whether  over  the  hill 
or  through  the  woods,  and  if  she  stopped  at 
the  spring  to  drink,  as  they  always  did  when 
they  went  together.  When  autumn  came, 
and  the  trees  were  clothed  in  their  rainbow 
hues,  Chloe  put  on  her  thick  shoes  and  wrapped 
her  shawl  about  her  to  go  to  the  woods 
for  chestnuts.  She  knew  that  Nancy  could 
not  meet  her  then  at  the  door  when  she  came 
home  with  her  laden  basket,  and  she  sat  down 
under  the  old  trees  and  wept  and  wept  again. 
The  sound  of  the  wind  in  the  topmost  branches 
was  to  her  like  dying  sighs;  the  bare  limbs 
were  bony  arms,  and  the  dry  and  falling  leaves 
around  her  said,  death,  death,  death!  The 
first  great  sorrow  of  her  life  was  coming,  and 
her  youthful  heart  shrank  from  the  meeting. 
Nancy's  seventeenth  birthday  came.  She 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUIS.  61 


wanted  to  "sit  up,"  she  said,  "and  celebrate 
it."  Then  she  called  for  her  paper,  and  with 
trembling  fingers  added  the  closing  lines  to  a 
letter  that  she  had  for  many  days  been  wri- 
ting for  her  mother  to  keep  after  she  was  dead. 
It  was  her  seventeenth  birthday,  she  wrote, 
and  when  the  eighteenth  one  came  she  should 
not  be  here.  She  never  sat  up  again ;  but  she 
lingered  yet  a  little  longer,  and  the  ground 
was  white  with  the  snow,  and  the  winter  winds 
whistled  through  naked  trees,  before  she  died. 
One  day,  when  Mr.  Yale,  their  minister,  came 
to  see  them,  he  said  to  Nancy, — 

"  My  dear  young  friend,  do  you  not  feel  as 
if  you  were  going  to  a  better  home?" 

"I  think  I  love  Jesus,"  said  she,  with  an 
effort,  "but  sometimes  I'm  afraid  that  I  am 
deceived.  Oh,"  said  she,  taking  his  hand,  "I 
want  you  to  preach  my  funeral  sermon,  and 
warn  my  young  friends  not  to  do  as  I  have 
done,  but  prepare  for  death.  Oh,  tell  them  to 
prepare  for  death!" 

She   had  been  failing  all  the  day,  and  as 


62  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


night  carae  on  it  was  evident  that  her  end  was 
near.  Chloe  was  sent  to  bed  with  Rena, 
whose  health  had  become  quite  delicate.  She 
awoke  in  the  night  and  heard  the  clock  below 
strike  two.  Soon  a  light  shone  through  the 
chamber,  and  the  form  of  their  mother  ap- 
peared. 

"Girls,"  said  she,  "we  think  Nancy  is 
dying." 

They  both  arose  and  groped  their  way  down 
the  stairs,  and  as  they  entered  the  room,  they 
saw  their  father  and  Rachel  standing  over  the 
bed  where  Nancy  lay,  with  gasping  breath, 
and  the  dreadful  death-look  already  in  her 
eyes. 

"Father!  oh,  father!"  said  the  dying  voice. 

He  bent  over  her,  raised  his  head,  and  said, 
"She's  gone!" 

Her  mother  came  and  stood  in  his  place,  and 
she  and  Rachel  closed  her  eyes  and  straight- 
ened her  limbs  in  death.  Then  Chloe  came 
forward  and  look  3d  upon  her.  She  had  never 


LIGHT    BEYOND    THE   CLUuDS.  63 


seen  death  before,  and  she  almost  felt  the 
closing  of  the  dark  wings  around  her! 

All  the  next  day  she  wandered  about  the 
house  like  one  in  a  dream.  "When  the  evening 
came,  she  lighted  the  candles  and  sat  down  by 
the  stove.  The  door  was  open  into  the  room 
where  her  dead  sister  lay.  There  was  no 
light  there:  it  was  the  room  that  was  the 
kitchen  when  they  came  there  to  live.  Her 
father  was  walking  to  and  fro  through  the  two 
rooms.  She  watched  him  as  he  disappeared 
in  the  darkness,  and  heard  him  stay  his  foot- 
steps by  the  dead  form  of  his  child  and  then 
turn  and  come  again  in  the  light. 

"Father,"  said  she,  "please  sit  down  here, 
won't  you?" 

He  sat  down,  and  she  laid  her  head  upon  his 
knee  and  sobbed  out  there  her  great  sorrow. 

On  the  Sabbath  there  was  a  funeral.      It 

was  a  pleasant  morning,  and  a  procession  of 

leighs  slowly  and  solemnly  wended  its  way 

over  the  hills  to  the  old  church.     Though  in 

mid- winter,  the  day  was  calm  and  quiet,  and 


64  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OB, 

after  the  services  the  coffin  was  carried  into 
the  open  air,  and  many  gathered  around  it. 

She  was  pleasant  to  look  upon.  The  long 
lashes  swept  her  marble  cheek,  and  the  black 
of  her  eyes  was  visible  through  the  thin, 
transparent  lids. 

The  burying-ground  was  near,  and,  as  they 
stood  around  the  grave,  the  minister,  with  a 
heart  full  of  sympathy,  spoke  words  of  holy 
consolation  to  gladden  the  hearts  of  the  mourn- 
ers. Then  they  saw  the  coffin  lowered,  a  little 
earth  thrown  in,  and  turned  back  to  their  de- 
solate home. 

Chloe  felt  her  loss  more,  even,  than  she  had 
thought,  and  for  many  days  she  wept  almost 
constantly.  But,  though  the  dark  cloud  hung 
over  them,  its  mission  was  to  bring  only  a 
passing  shadow ;  for  above,  the  sun  of  heaven 
was  shining  in  full  glory,  and,  lifting  up  their 
eyes  and  hearts,  they  could  bless  both  ihe 
shadow  snd  the  sun. 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  65 


VI. 

THEY   VISIT   FAMILIAR   SCENES. 

THE  next  Sabbath  Chloe  and  her  father 
walked  to  meeting.  No  new  snow  had  fallen 
since  the  last  Sabbath, — the  day  of  the  funeral. 
They  could  even  see  the  place  where  the  bier 
which  bore  the  coffin  had  stood,  and  the  foot- 
prints of  those  who  had  gathered  around  it. 
They  looked  towards  the  graveyard  as  they 
came  near.  The  new  grave  was  there, — a  dark 
mound  in  the  gleaming  snow.  A  lonely  grave 
it  seemed ;  for  all  the  others  were  buried  under 
the  white  drifts. 

At  noon  they  walked  over  there  and  stood 
together  by  the  side  of  the  new,  fresh  grave, 
— Nancy's  grave !  How  sad  and  strange  the 
tnought,  and  how  desolate-hearted  they  were, 
both  father  and  child !  The  wind  came  moan- 
ing over  the  hill,  and  moved  the  branches  of  a 

E  6* 


66  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


dry  tree  that  stood  near  them.  Chloe  re- 
membered the  lonely  hour  in  the  chestnut- 
woods.  The  shadow  came  over  her  again, 
and,  cold  and  shivering,  she  clung  closer  to 
her  father.  He  was  standing  with  compressed 
lips  and  tightly-folded  hands ;  for  he  had  loved 
his  child  Nancy  more  than  he  could  tell. 

A  moment  more  of  silence,  and  then  they 
turned  away.  Although  no  words  had  been 
spoken,  each  felt  nearer  to  the  other  than  be- 
fore. The  hearts  of  the  father  and  child  had 
held  holy  communion  by  the  side  of  that  grave 
in  the  snow. 

When  they  reached  home  that  night  they 
saw  Rena's  pale  face  watching  for  them 
through  the  window.  Kachel  was  preparing 
the  supper,  and  their  mother  was  reading  the 
Bible  in  her  rocking-chair.  She  read  the  last 
verse  of  the  chapter  aloud.  It  was  the  last 
verse  of  the  twenty-seventh  Psalm.  She  read, 
in  slow,  tremulous  tones,  "Wait  on  the  Lord: 
be  of  good  courage,  and  he  shall  strengthen 
thine  heart:  wait,  I  say,  on  the  Lord."  Then 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  67 


she  closed  the  Bible,  and  they  gathered  around 
the  supper-table. 

That  night,  when  they  were  retiring,  Chloo 
said, — 

"Rachel,  what  is  the  meaning  of  that  text 
that  mother  read  out  loud?" 

"I  don't  remember  now.  what  it  was,"  said 
Rachel. 

"  I  do,"  replied  Chloe :  "  I  can  say  it.  '  Wait 
on  the  Lord :  be  of  good  courage,  and  he  shall 
strengthen  thine  heart:  wait,  I  say,  on  the 
Lord.'  What  does  it  mean  to  'wait  on  the 
Lord'?" 

"I  don't  know  as  I  can  tell  you,"  said 
Rachel.  "Perhaps  it's  obeying  God's  com- 
mands. 'He  shall  strengthen  thine  heart.' 
I  know  my  heart  has  been  stronger  after  I 
have  done  something  that  I  know  God  will 
approve, — especially  if  I  have  to  deny  myself 
to  do  it." 

"What  have  you  ever  done,  Rachel?" 

"Oh,  nothing  to  tell  of:  still,  it  was  a  good 
deal  to  me  I  think  every  Christian  has 


68  CHLOE  LANKTON;  on, 


duties  to  do,  and  if  they  don't  do  them  it  is  <* 
great  hinderance." 

"What  are  the  duties,  Eachel?" 
"  Oh,  I  can't  tell  you :  every  one  wouldn't 
have  the  same,  of  course.  I  suppose  the  first 
duty  is  to  join  the  church.  I  wasn't  but  thir- 
teen years  old  when  I  joined. .  'Twas  before 
you  can  remember :  you  were  only  four  years 
old.  Eena  and  several  others  about  my  age 
joined  at  the  same  time,  and  the  minister  talked 
to  us  children,  and  told  us  how  easy  it  would  be 
for  us  to  be  led  astray,  and  that  we  must  be 
very  careful  and  not  bring  a  reproach  upon 
the  cause.  After  that  I  was  so  afraid  I  should 
do  something,  that  I  watched  myself  all  the 
time;  and  sometimes  I  would  forget,  and  then 
I  would  feel  so  bad.  But  I  know  better  now. 
Why,  there  are  little  trials  coming  up  every 
day ;  and  if  I  bear  them  patiently  I  feel  as  if  I 
was  doing  something  for  God.  I  never  had 
any  great  trial  till  Nancy  died.  It  seemed 
for  a  while  that  I  couldn't  have  it  so;  but  all 
that  day  before  she  died,  I  never  was  so  calm 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  69 


and  happy.  It  seemed  as  if  every  thing  was 
in  God's  hands  and  he  would  do  just  right.  1 

• Why,  what  is  the  matter,  Chloe?  what 

are  you  crying  for?" 

"Because  I'm  so  wicked,  Rachel." 

"  Wicked  ?     What  do  you  mean,  Chloe  ?" 

"Why,  I've  never  done  any  thing  for  Jesus 
Christ.  It  didn't  seem  right  to  have  Nancy 
die.  Every  thing  seems  so  strange !  It's  so 
strange  to  live,  Rachel!" 

This  outburst  was  beyond  Rachel's  simple 
wisdom;  and  she  could  only  say, — 

"You  must  pray  to  God  to  help  you, 
Chloe." 

Chloe  did  pray.  She  knew  not  what  else 
to  do,  and  she  found  a  sweet  peace  in  praying. 
Jesus  Christ  was  very  dear  to  her ;  and  for 
-he  moved  about  in  a  kind  of  calm  rest 
that,  though  there  was  sadness  in  it,  was 
sweet  to  her  soul. 

Chloe's  nature  was  sunshiny.  She  easily 
threw  off  sadness  or  sorrow.  The  family  set- 
tled back  again  into  their  old  ways ;  and  when 


70  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 

the  summer  came  again,  it  brought  back  the 
old  lightness  to  her  heart.  But  there  was  a 
deeper  feeling  of  joy  in  the  dark  old  woods 
and  on  the  sunny  hills.  She  was  older,  and 
thought  and  felt  more.  Although  these  hills 
and  woods  had  been  all  her  little  world,  yet 
there,  in  the  stillness  of  her  hill-side  home,  a 
truer  and  better  life  was  gradually  opening  to 
her. 

One  day  her  father  came  in  and  said, — 

"Who  wants  to  go  over  to  the  'old  place' 
to-morrow?" 

"Why,  who's  going  there?"  asked  all  to- 
gether. 

"I've  just  heard,"  he  replied,  "that  the  con- 
ference meets  there ;  and  I  thought  some  of  us 
would  go  over." 

After  some  talk,  it  was  decided  that  Rachel 
should  stay  with  Rena,  and  that  "father, 
mother  and  Chloe"  should  go.  Chloe  had  not 
visited  her  old  home  since  they  left  it,  and  she 
was  in  an  ecstasy  of  delight.  She  could  hardly 
sleep  that  night  for  thinking  of  the  morrow. 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  71 


She  awoke  very  early  in  the  morning,  jumped 
up  and  ran  to  the  window. 

"Chloe,"  cried  Rachel,  "what  are  you  up 
there  in  the  cold  for?" 

"Cold!"  echoed  Chloe:  "I  wonder  whai  you 
are  made  of,  to  call  it  cold!  It's  daylight, 
Rachel:  won't  you  get  up?" 

"Why,  no,"  said  Rachel:  "you  wouldn't 
start  any  earlier  for  getting  up  at  this  time  of 
night." 

It  seemed  a  long  time  to  wait ;  but  the  hour 
came  at  last.  Breakfast  was  over,  and  her 
father  drove  up  in  the  long  green  wagon  that 
he  had  obtained  for  them  to  ride  in.  The  road 
led  them  over  hills  through  the  forest.  The 
woods  resounded  with  the  singing  of  birds, 
and  every  thing  was  so  fresh  and  beautiful  in 
that  summer  morning !  But  they  soon  came 
out  of  the  shade,  and  drove  by  plains  and 
meadows,  on  a  level  road.  Then  Chloe  began 
to  recognise  familiar  things.  There  was  the 
lot  where  the  strawberries  grew,  and  here  was 
where  she  used  sometimes  to  come  after  the 


72  CHLOE    LAXKTOSJ    OR, 


cow.  They  drove  rapidly  on.  "Oh,  father," 
Chloe  cried,  ''there's  the  old  well-sweep!"  It 
was  the  house  where  she  and  Beulah  always 
stopped  for  water  on  their  way  to  school.  It 
had  not  changed  any.  The  same  curtains 
were  at  the  windows,  and  the  mossy  curb  and 
sweep  looked  just  the  same.  Then  came  the 
school-house  and  the  little  frog-pond  by  the 
roadside.  Her  father  slackened  the  speed  of 
the  horse,  and  Chloe  gazed  upon  the  dear  old 
places  as  they  rode  slowly  by.  How  familiar, 
and  yet  how  strange,  every  thing  seemed! 
Next  came  the  minister's  house.  "It  seems," 
said  Chloe,  "as  if  Mr.  Mills  would  come  out 
of  that  door  and  say,  'My  daughters,'  just  as 
he  used  to,  to  us  girls." 

"Poor  old  man!"  said  her  mother:  "he's 
dead  now!" 

They  drove  up  to  the  church.  The  people 
standing  around  the  steps  stared  a  moment,  and 
then  came  smiles  of  recognition  and  shaking  of 
hands  with  the  father  and  mother.  Chloe  had 
quite  grown  out  of  their  remembrance. 


LIGHT    BEYOND    THE    CLOUDS.  73 


"Mother,"  she  whispered,  "I'm  going  over 
to  Mrs.  Bissell's  a  minute." 

She  ran  across  the  yard  up  to  the  well- 
known  door.  The  old  lady  looked  at  her 
through  her  spectacles  as  she  came  in.  At 
length  she  said, — 

"Why,  Chloe,  is  it  you?  How  you  have 
grown!  How  did  you  come?" 

"With  father  and  mother.  We  came  over 
to  the  meeting." 

"Oh,  then  they've  come  over?  I  shall  be 
very  glad  to  see  your  mother.  You've  lost  a 
sister  lately,"  she  added,  glancing  at  Chloe 's 
black  dress:  "Rachel,  wasn't  it?" 

"No,  ma'am:  it  was  Nancy." 

"Oh!  was  it  Nancy?  What  was  the  mat- 
ter with  her?" 

"Consumption,"  replied  Chloe. 

"Oh,  then,  she  died  with  consumption? 
Indeed!  can  it  be,"  she  continued,  "that 
voung,  lively  girl  is  dead?  She  used  to  come 
in  here,  sometimes,  Sunday  noons.  I  remem- 
ber how  her  black  eyes  used  to  shine." 


74  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


When  Chloe  went  back  to  the  meeting- 
nouse,  she  found  some  of  her  school-mates 
waiting  for  her  on  the  steps.  It  was  pleasant 
to  meet  them  again  and  see  how  each  one 
had  grown  and  changed.  She  was  glad,  too, 
to  hear  about  those  who  wore  not  there.  One 
or  two  had  died,  and  others  had  moved  away. 
They  pointed  out  the  new  minister  to  her. 
He  was  a  young  man,  and  not  at  all  like  old 
Mr.  Mills. 

The  inside  of  the  church  looked  very  natu- 
ral and  homelike.  Several  ministers  were 
present,  and  the  one  who  had  been  chosen  to 
preach  spoke  of  the  duties  of  Christians.  It 
was  a  pointed  discourse.  His  whole  soul  was 
in  it,  and  the  truth  went  home  to  every  heart. 
Chloe  felt  that  every  word  of  the  sermon  was 
for  her.  "When  he  addressed  those  who  pro- 
fessed religion  but  neglected  to  join  the 
Christian  Church,  she  hung  her  head  in  very 
guilt.  She  felt  more  than  ever  convinced  of 
"her  one  great  duty,  and  she  breathed  a  silent 
prayer  to  Heaven  for  guidance  and  direction. 


LIGHT  BEYOND  THE  CLOUDS.      75 


VII. 
DUTY  DONE. 

THE  minister  closed  his  remarks,  and  others 
that  were  present  followed.  They  were  mostly 
young  preachers.  Their  hearts  were  full  of 
reverence  and  feeling ;  and  many  an  eye  was 
dimmed  with  tears  as  with  power  and  ful- 
ness of  meaning  the  words  fell  from  their 
lips.  Their  strong  faith  seemed  to  draw 
down  the  very  clouds  of  heaven.  Peace  and 
hope,  trust  in  God  and  love  to  man  came 
like  manna  upon  the  souls  of  the  congrega- 
tion. The  meeting  was  closed  by  the  singing 
of  "Old  Hundred."  The  congregation  arose 
and  sang  with  the  choir,  and  the  simple  country 
church  was  filled  with  the  sweet  and  solemn 
harmony.  Then  the  oldest  minister  present 
pronounced  the  benediction,  and  reluctantly, 


76  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


it  seemed,  the  concourse  of  people  moved 
slowly  out. 

The  shadows  were  deepening  in  the  valleys 
when  they  rode  home  that  night.  The  parents 
had  left  the  church  with  spirits  gladdened  and 
refreshed,  and  they  found  much  pleasure  in 
talking  over  the  events  of  the  day.  But 
Chloe's  ride  was  a  sad  one.  She  passed  the 
school-house,  the  old  well-sweep  and  the 
familiar  plains  and  meadows  in  silence.  The 
living  words  of  the  young  preacher  were 
uppermost  in  her  mind.  He  had  made  her  see 
the  importance  of  uniting  with  a  Christian 
Church  in  a  light  in  which  she  never  before 
had  seen  it.  It  was  a  duty  that  she  felt  she 
must  perform;  but,  when  she  looked  back 
upon  her  past  life,  her  mind  shrank  from  it. 
She  remembered  how  light  and  gay  she  had 
often  been  with  her  young  school-mates ;  and 
the  fear  arose  in  her  mind  that  she  was  not  a 
fit  subject  of  so  solemn  and  responsible  a  re- 
lation. 

The  shades  of  evening  were  in  the  forest 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  77 


as  they  drove  through.  Chloe  was  giateful 
for  the  darkness.  It  suited  her  state  of  mind, 
and  she  could  have  gone  on  hours  longer 
beneath  those  sombre  shadows.  But  they 
reached  home  at  last.  Eachel  met  them  at 
the  door,  and  Rena's  pale  face  brightened  as 
they  entered.  There  was  much  to  hear  and 
much  to  tell  about  old  friends  and  old  places. 
A  man — one  of  the  neighbours— came  in  to 
talk  with  her  father  about  the  meeting:  so 
Chloe's  unusual  quietness  was  not  noticed. 
Said  he, — 

"  Isn't  that  the  church  where  Rev.  Samuel 
Mills  used  to  preach?" 

"Yes,"  was  the  reply:  "he  preached  there 
when  we  lived  there." 

"A  pretty  smart  man,  wasn't  he?" 

"Yes:  he  was  a  good  man  and  a  sound 
preacher.  But  he  was  funny  sometimes. 
You've  heard  the  story  about  him  and  the 
students,  haven't  you?" 

"Xo,"  was  the  reply:  "I  don't  know  as  I 
have." 

7» 


78  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


"He  was  riding  through  Litchfield  one  day, 
and  some  young  fellows  that  went  to  school 
there  were  going  along  in  the  street,  and  they 
met  Mr.  Mills  and  thought  they'd  have  some 
fun  with  him.  So  they  came  along  and  said, 
'We've  just  heard  some  news  that'll  be  bad 
for  you,  Father  Mills!' 

"'Ah!'  said  he:  'what  is  it?' 

"  'Why,  the  devil's  dead.' 

"He  raised  up  both  hands  and  said,  'Poor, 
fatherless  children !  What  will  become  of  you?' 
The  students  couldn't  say  a  word.  It  got  out 
after  a  while;  and  I  guess  they  didn't  hear 
the  last  of  it  very  soon." 

"Ha,  ha,  ha!"  laughed  their  visitor:  "that's 
first-rate;  the  best  joke  I  ever  heard!  Ha, 
ha,  ha!"  he  laughed  again.  His  hilarity  was 
catching,  and,  though  they  had  all  heard  the 
story  so  many  times  before,  they  could  not 
help  joining.  At  length  he  added,  "Didn't 
this  Mr.  Mills  have  a  son  that  was  a  mis- 
sionary?" 

"Yes,"  was  the  reply:  "his  son's  name  was 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  79 


Samuel.  He  went  to  Africa,  but  didn't  live 
but  seven  months  from  the  time  he  left  this 
country.  He  died  on  board  ship  and  was 
buried  in  the  ocean.  When  the  news  came 
of  his  death,  his  father  stopped  and  said,  '  I 
don't  understand  it.  I  thought  the  Lord  had 
a  work  for  Samuel  to  do  on  the  earth;  but  he 
has  taken  him  away;  and  I  don't  understand 
it.'  It  affected  him  a  good  deal.  They  had  a 
sermon  preached  in  the  meeting-house,  and 
they  read  some  of  his  letters  that  he  wrote  to 
his  father  on  the  voyage." 

"They  must  have  been  interesting,"  re- 
marked the  visitor.  "  I  think  I  have  heard  them 
spoken  of  more  than  once  before."  Just  then  the 
long  clock  in  the  corner  struck  nine.  "  I  de- 
clare!" he  added,  "I  must  go."  Then,  taking 
his  hat,  he  bade  them  "good-night"  and  went 
out. 

When  Chloe  went  to  bed  that  night,  she 
unburdened  her  mind  to  Rachel.  She  told 
her  all  she  could  remember  of  the  sermon, 
and  of  her  own  feelings  in  regard  to  joining 


80  CHLOE  LANZTON;  on, 


tlie  church.  "Why  don't  you  join?"  said 
Bachel.  "  I  think  you  ought  to.  I  think  it's 
your  duty." 

"I  know  it  is,"  said  Chloe;  "but  I'm  afraid, 
Eachel." 

"Afraid  of  what?" 

"Why,  I'm  afraid  I  a'n't  fit.  You  know 
how  I'm  always  talking  and  laughing ;  and  I 
always  say  something  I'm  sorry  about." 

"Well,"  replied  Eachel,  "you  always  did 
laugh,  and  I  expect  you  always  will,  whether 
you  join  the  church  or  not.  If  your  heart  is 
right,  that's  the  main  thing,  you  know.  If 
you  really  feel  it  your  duty  to  join  the  church, 
you'd  better  not  put  it  off.  You'll  never  feel 
right  till  you  do  it." 

After  much  prayer  and  many  doubts, 
Chloe's  wishes,  by  the  advice  of  all  her  friends, 
were  made  known  to  Mr.  Yale,  their  minister. 
To  their  surprise,  they  found  that  others  had 
expressed  the  same.  Several  came  forward, 
and  when  the  appointed  Sabbath  arrived 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  dl 


there  were  twelve  that  stood  up  in  the  broad 
aisle  of  the  old  church,  to  make  a  public  pro- 
fession of  their  faith  in  Jesus  Christ.  Chloe 
was  the  youngest  of  the  twelve. 

When  the  service  was  concluded  by  which 
she  was  united  to  the  visible  Church  of  Christ, 
she  felt  almost  ready  to  sink  with  a  sense  of 
the  responsibility  that  she  had  taken  upon 
herself.  Then  they  gathered  together,  and  a 
solemn  silence  rested  upon  all  as  the  clergy- 
man broke  the  bread  and  poured  the  wine, 
and,  in  tones  of  deep  feeling,  welcomed  to  the 
"  Lord's  table  the  new  guests  who  had  never 
sat  there  before."  Chloe's  mind  was  filled 
with  a  peace  she  never  before  had  known. 
The  place  was  solemn  and  holy.  Jesus  Christ 
seemed  present  with  them ;  and  over  all  was 
resting  the  sweet  stillness  of  the  dim  old 
church. 

When  Chloe  walked  home  that  night,  every 
thing  about  her  seemed  changed.  Often  as 
she  had  looked  upon  the  beautiful  landscape 


82  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


of  hill  and  valley  that  stretched  away  on 
either  side,  that  evening  it  possessed  a  new 
beauty.  She  did  not  know  that  the  change 
was  in  herself.  She  had  not  yet  learned  that 
the  soul  sees  in  the  face  of  nature  the  image 
of  its  own  loveliness  or  deformity.  In  every 
object  that  met  her  eye  she  felt  a  new  and 
strange  delight.  The  noise  of  the  brook  over 
its  pebbly  bed  was  sweeter  music  to  her  ear 
than  murmuring  waters  had  ever  breathed  be- 
fore ;  and  her  soul  flowed  out  in  gratitude  to 
the  Great  Giver  of  all  life  and  beauty. 

Eena  could  not  help  noticing  Chloe's  face  as 
she  entered;  and  her  eyes  followed  her  young 
sister  with  joy  and  love.  Chloe  was  now  in 
the  fresh  bloom  of  youthful  loveliness.  The 
long  tresses  of  her  beautiful  dark  hair  were 
wound  about  her  head,  and  her  face  was 
always  sunny  with  happiness  and  her  black 
eyes  dancing  with  joy.  But  there  was  a  new 
light  in  them  to-night, — a  gleam  that  told 
of  deeper  feeling;  and  it  was  a  more  subdued 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  83 


happiness  that  shone  through  her  expressive 
face.  They  all  looked  upon  her  more  lovingly 
and  tenderly.  They  felt  that  she  was  now, 
more  than  ever  before,  the  pure,  sweet  light 
of  their  humble  home. 


84  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


VIIL 
RENA'S  DEATH. 

"On,  there's  a  peddler!"  said  Chloe,  one 
day.  His  coming  was  a  pleasant  variety  in 
their  every-day  life;  and  she  hastened  10  open 
the  door.  He  was  a  tall,  thin  man,  with  very 
small,  blue  eyes,  and  had  two  tin  trunks  sus- 
pended from  his  shoulders. 

"Buy  any  thing  to-day?"  he  said, — "pins, 
needles,  thread,  tape,  buttons,  thimbles,  hand- 
kerchiefs, soap,  combs,  'spenders " 

"That'll  do,"  said  Chloe,  laughing:  "please 
walk  in." 

He  made  a  low  bow  to  Rena  as  he  entered, 
and  then  sat  down  and  laid  back  the  covers 
of  his  trunks  with  a  flourish.  Rachel  left  her 
spinning,  and  Rena  moved  up  nearer  in  the 
rocking-chair. 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  85 


"Let  me  look  at  your  silver  thimbles,"  said 
she,  feebly.  "What  is  the  price?"  (fitting  oje 
to  her  finger.) 

"Fifty  cents,"  was  the  reply. 

"Try  it  on,  Chloe,"  said  Rena.  "Why,  it 
fits  you  better  than  it  does  me!" 

"  Is  fifty  cents  your  lowest  price?"  she  asked. 

"Yes,  ma'am,  the  lowest, — unless  sometimes 
I  sell  'em  by  the  quantity." 

"Suppose  we  should  take  two?"  queried 
Eachel. 

"Well,"  said  he,  hesitating,  "if  you'll  take 

two — I  do'  know Well,  I  guess  if  you'll 

take  two  you  can  have  'em  for  forty-two  cents 
apiece." 

Rachel  found  one  that  fitted,  and  then  went 
to  get  the  money. 

"Bring  my  purse,  Rachel,"  said  Rena. 

She  brought  it,  and  Rena  took  from  it  a 
bright  half-dollar.  It  was  a  part  of  what  re- 
mained of  her  treasured  earnings  in  days  of 
health. 

Alter  the  peddler  had  gone,  Rena  sat  a  long 


86  CHLOE   LAXKTOX;    OK, 

time  gazing  at  the  thimble  upon  her  finger. 
At  length  she  said, — 

"Chloe,  I  bought  this  silver  thimble  for  you. 
I  sha'n't  live  to  use  it.  I  got  it  for  you  to  re- 
member me  by." 

Chloe  suddenly  raised  her  head  and  looked 
at  her  sister.  Rena  had  been  fading  so  gra- 
dually, and  had  been  so  cheerful,  day  by  day, 
that  it  had  not  occurred  to  her  that  she  would 
die.  But,  as  she  looked  upon  her  again,  the 
truth  at  once  flashed  upon  her.  Rena  would 
die :  she  saw  it  in  the  hollow  eyes  and  sunken 
cheek.  She  turned  and  stood  at  the  window. 
It  was  then  in  mid- winter.  The  air  was  dim 
with  new-falling  snow,  and  already  the  sloping 
roof  of  the  piazzaed  house  on  the  hill  wae 
whitened  with  it.  The  meadow  was  cold  and 
drear,  and  the  bare  limbs  of  the  trees  in  the 
forest  beyond  looked  gaunt  and  strange 
through  the  misty  air.  The  shadow  came 
over  her  again, — the  same  deep  shadow  that 
she  had  felt  under  the  chestnut-trees  and  by 
Xancy's  grave. 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  87 


"Death!  death!"  she  said  to  herself:  "oh, 
how  can  I  meet  it  again?" 

Then  Rena  spoke.  "Chloe,"  said  she, 
"come  here."  With  quivering  lip  Chloe 
obeyed.  "I  don't  want  you  to  feel  bad, 
Chloe,"  she  said:  "it's  what  I've  known  a  long 
time ;  and  I  have  prayed  over  it  a  great  deal. 
You  know  how  many  doubts  I  used  to  have 
about  myself,  whether  I  was  a  Christian  or 
not.  They're  all  gone  now.  I  feel  willing  to 
die:  I  want  to  go  and  be  with  Jesus.  All  I 
pray  for  now  is  for  patience  to  wait  until  the 
time  comes.  I  want  you  all  to  feel  reconciled 
to  it.  If  you  only  realized  how  happy  I  am, 
I'm  sure  you  would." 

Chloe  could  only  answer  by  her  sobs.  But 
the  ice  was  broken  now,  and  after  this  Hena 
talked  much  of  her  own  death. 

"Mother,"  said  she,  one  day,  "I  wish  you 
would  take  the  rest  of  the  money  in  my  purse 
and  send  down  to  the  village  and  get  me  some 
cloth." 

"Cloth!     For  what,  Rena?" 


CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


"I  want  to  make  my  own  shroud." 
"  Why,  Eena !  How  can  I  get  it  ?" 
"Don't  refuse  me,  mother,"  she  said:  "you 
know  I  can't  live.  I  feel  myself  growing  weaker 
— it  seems  as  if  I  could — every  day;  and  I 
want  to  make  it.  It  will  be  a  pleasure  to  me." 
Rena's  urgent  request  could  not  be  denied. 
The  cloth  was  obtained  for  her,  and  one  day 
she  laid  it  upon  the  table  and  her  own  hands 
cut  and  fitted  the  last  garment  that  she  would 
wear  upon  earth.  Then  she  put  on  the  new 
thimble  and  sewed  till  she  was  tired.  But  the 
winds  of  March  were  moaning  around  their 
lowly  home  before  it  was  finished,  and  she  was 
moved  into  the  room  where  Nancy  had  died. 
She  sat  up  a  little  while  every  day,  and  with 
the  shining  thimble  worked  upon  the  white 
robe. 

"Don't  go  out,"  she  said  to  Chloe  one  day, 
who  entered  the  room  and  suddenly  drew 
back,  "because  you  see  me  at  work  on  this. 
Why,  I've  been  just  as  happy  as  if  I  was  mak- 
ing a  dress !  It's  about  done  now,"  she  added, 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLCDTDS.  89 

with  a  little  sigh.     "Won't  you  call  Eachel, 
Chloe?" 

Kachel  came,  and  Eena  said,  "  You  may  get 
me  the  box  and  other  things  now."  Rachel 
knew  the  box  she  wanted,  and  silently  obeyed. 
Then  they  all  stood  by  her  and  watched  her 
thin,  white  hands  as  she  carefully  folded  the 
spotless  garment  and  placed  it  smoothly  in  the 
box. 

"  There !"  said  she :  "  they'll  lie  there  safe  till 
they  are  wanted.  It  won't  be  long.  Here, 
Chloe,  the  thimble  is  your's  now.  I  never  shall 
need  it  again :  my  work  is  done.  Keep  it  to 
remember  me  by.  What  makes  you  cry?  I 
never  was  so  happy  in  my  life  as  I  am  now." 
After  this,  each  day  found  Bena  weaker,  while 
her  faith  in  Christ  grew  brighter  and  stronger. 
"Don't  pray  that  I  may  live,"  she  said,  "but 
that  I  may  have  patience  to  wait."  So,  pa- 
tiently waiting  her  summons,  she  stayed  her 
time,  looking  up  through  the  golden-rimmed 
cloud  to  heaven. 

Chloe  came  in  one  day  and  found  her  father 

s* 


90  CHLOE  LAXKTON;  OR, 


lying  nearly  senseless  on  the  bed,  and  her 
mother  standing  over  him,  wildly  weeping. 

"What  is  it?"  she  exclaimed.  "What  is 
the  matter?" 

"Why,"  replied  her  mother,  "he  lifted  too 
heavy,  and  he  is  dreadfully  hurt!  I've  sent 
for  the  doctor:  why  don't  he  come?  Eena 
dying  in  one  room  and  he  in  another!  Oh, 
it's  too  much, — too  much!" 

That  day  was  a  dark  one.  All  through  its 
long  hours  Chloe  walked  the  house  in  agony. 
To  lose  Eena  was  a  great  trial :  still,  she  had 
schooled  her  heart  to  it  and  could  give  her  up 
cheerfully  now.  But  to  see  her  father  die  was 
a  sorrow  she  thought  that  she  could  not  bear. 
And  she  was  not  called  upon  to  bear  it. 
Through  the  skill  of  the  physician,  his  life  was 
saved,  although  he  lay  many  days  in  weak- 
ness and  suffering. 

Meanwhile,  Eena  was  rapidly  failing.  She 
only  wished  10  live,  she  said,  to  look  once 
more  upon  her  father;  and  they  were  all  very 
glad  and  thankful  when  he  was  able,  or.e 


LIGHT    BEYOND    THE    CLOUDS.  91 


morning,  to  walk  with  help  into  Rena's  room. 
He  sat  down  by  her  bed,  and  she  held  his 
hand  between  her  own  and  looked  into  his 
face  long  and  earnestly.  The  next  day  he 
could  stay  with  her  longer,  and  the  next  he 
spent  nearly  all  the  time  in  her  room;  for 
they  all  felt  that  Rena  had  not  long  to  live. 

"Mother,"  said  she,  "do  you  think  me  in  a 
dying  state?" 

"No,  Rena:  I  do  not  think  you  are." 

"When  I  am,  won't  you  tell  me?" 

"Yes,  Rena;  I  will." 

Her  father  was  sitting  by  her  bedside  when 
it  came.  He  called  his  wife,  and  she  called 
the  girls. 

"Rena,"  said  her  mother,  "we  think  you 
are  to  die  soon." 

She  raised  her  hands  feebly  and  said,  "Oh, 
how  I  do  rejoice!  I  shall  soon  be  with  Christ." 

"Rena,"  said  her  mother  again,  "now  you 
are  dying,  do  you  feel  any  dread  of  death?" 

"Oh,  no:  I've  no  more  fear  than  if  I  was 
going  to  sleep.  Don't  feel  so  bad,  mother, 


92  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


when  I  am  so  happy.  I  never  did  rejoice  so 
much.  It  seems  as  if  I  could  see  Jesus  on 
the  cross,  bleeding  for  my  sins.  Don't  mourn 
so  for  me :  try  all  to  live  faithful  and  meet- 
me  in  heaven." 

ARena  never  spoke  to  them  again.  Her 
mother  bent  over  her,  and,  in  her  slow, 
tremulous  tones,  said,  "Rena,  my  poor  child, 
does  your  faith  hold  out?"  She  could  not 
speak,  but  she  looked  up  and  smiled  an  assent ; 
and  then  her  head  dropped.  Chloe  saw  that 
her  lips  and  her  hands  were  changing  their 
colour.  She  turned  and  left  the  room.  She 
went  to  the  kitchen-window  and  looked  out 
upon  the  beautiful  spring  morning.  She  stood 
there,  almost  unconsciously,  watching  the  play 
of  the  sunlight  among  the  fresh  green  leaves 
and  listening  to  the  songs  of  the  birds.  Her 
father  opened  the  door  and  said,  "Chloe, 
Rena's  gone !  She's  done  breathing." 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  93 


IX. 

A   FUNERAL   AND  A  JOURNEY. 

ONLY  one  of  their  neighbours  was  with 
them  when  Rena  breathed  her  last;  and  she 
could  not  perform  the  sad  offices  for  the  dead. 
Rachel  and  her  mother  closed  her  eyes,  and 
others  soon  came  in,  with  hands  ready  and 
willing,  and  hearts  full  of  sympathy  for  the 
mourners.  The  mother  brought  out  the  box, 
which  had  not  been  opened  since  Rena  ar- 
ranged it.  Her  tears  flowed  afresh  when  she 
raised  the  cover. 

"Here,"  said  she,  "every  thing  is  all 
ready.  Poor  Rena  fixed  it  with  her  own 
hands." 

"Sure  enough,"  said  one,  taking  the  box 
from  her:  "why,  this  doesn't  seem  like  death !" 

Saturday  night  came.      The  preparations 


94  CH.JOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


were  made  for  the  funeral  the  next  day.  All 
through  the  last  of  the  afternoon  and  first  of 
the  evening  their  friends  and  neighbours  had 
been  coming  and  going.  The  mourners  sit- 
ting quietly  in  the  kitchen  could  hear  their 
whispered  remarks  as  they  passed  through 
into  the  other  room  and  looked  upon  the  dead 
form. 

"Do  you  think  she  looks  natural?" 

"Yes;  quite  so." 

"She's  very  much  emaciated." 

"Yes;  but  the  expression  is  very  pleasant. '' 

"They  say  she  died  very  happy." 

"Yes,  I  suppose  she  did." 

Later  in  the  evening  the  house  became 
quiet,  and  then  Rachel  and  Chloe  went  into 
the  room  and  closed  the  door  after  them. 
Rachel  laid  back  the  covering  from  the  face, 
and,  with  clasped  hands,  they  stood  together 
and  looked  upon  their  sister. 

"There  were  six  of  us  once,  Chloe,"  said 
Rachel:  "now  we  two  are  all  that's  left." 


LIGHT   BEYOND    THE    CLOUDS.  95 


"  Yes,"  said  Chloe,  "but  I  would  be  willing 
to  die  if  I  could  feel  as  happy  as  she  did." 

"She  was  a  real  Christian,"  said  Eachel. 

"Oh,  how  good  she  was!"  cried  Chloe, 
weeping.  "My  dear,  dear  sister,  I  never  shall 
see  you  again!" 

"She's  better  off  now,"  replied  Eachel, 
wiping  the  tears  from  her  eyes. 

"I  know  she  is.  I  prayed  to-day,  Rachel, — 
and  I  never  prayed  so  much  in  earnest  in  my 
life, — that  God  would  make  me  pure  before  I 
died." 

"Oh,  Chloe,  you  don't  know  what  you  asked 
for.  You  know  the  Bible  says,  'Whom  the 
Lord  loveth  he  chasteneth.'" 

"Yes,  but  I'd  be  willing  to  be  chastened  if 
I  could  be  as  good  as  she  was." 

The  Sabbath  appointed  for  the  funeral  was 
the  first  day  of  summer,  and  at  an  early  hour 
kind  friends  were  there.  The  body  of  Rena  was 
placed  in  the  coffin,  and  her  mother's  tears  fell 
upon  the  marble  cheek.  Said  one  to  her, — 

"Your  daughter  died  very  happy." 


96  CHLOE  LAXKTON;  OR, 


"Oh,  yes,  very  happy.  When  Kachel  and 
1  were  closing  her  eyes,  it  seemed  all  the  time 
as  if  she  was  inviting  us  to  go  with  her  to 
the  world  of  glory." 

"Then,"  said  another,  "why  do  you  cry  so? 
Don't  mourn  so  for  her :  she's  better  off  than 
she  ever  could  be  with  you." 

"  Oh,  I  know  she's  better  off.  I  know  she's 
happy  now.  God  has  the  best  right  to  her. 
I  am  perfectly  resigned.  But  how  can  I  dc 
without  her?  She  was  such  a  good  child  to 
me,  I  can't  but  mourn." 

The  room  was  soon  filled.  A  prayer  was 
offered,  a  hymn  was  sung,  and  then  the  pro- 
cession was  formed  and  slowly  wound  its  way 
over  the  hills  to  the  old  church.  The  morning 
was  very  beautiful.  The  birds  sung,  the  sum- 
mer wind  breathed  its  balmy  breath,  the  skies 
above  were  soft,  deep  and  pure,  and  the  sun 
shone  with  brightness  and  splendour.  Rachel 
said  to  Chloe, — 

"Nancy  was  buried  on  Sunday;  but  the 
ground  was  covered  with  snow  then." 


LIGHT    BEYOND    THE    CLOUDS.  97 


"  Yes,"  replied  Chloe,  "I  remember.  There 
wasn't  a  green  thing  to  be  seen ;  and  now  how 
pleasant  it  is !" 

The  coffin  was  carried  into  tne  middle  aisle 
of  the  church,  where  Nancy's  had  stood  a  little 
more  than  a  year  before.  Mr.  Yale,  their  be- 
loved minister,  preached  the  sermon,  bringing 
from  the  treasury  of  the  Holy  Scriptures  price- 
less gems  of  wisdom  and  truth  to  gladden  the 
hearts  of  the  mourners.  After  the  services, 
the  coffin  was  taken  out  and  placed  upon  the 
green  turf,  and  many  gathered  around  to  look 
for  the  last  time  upon  her  whom  all  had  loved. 
Then  it  was  borne  to  the  grave  that  had  been 
made  by  the  side  of  Nancy's,  and  there,  in  the 
midst  of  sunshine  and  springing  life,  Eena  was 
buried  out  of  their  sight. 

For  months  afterwards,  a  shadow  filled  her 
accustomed  place  in  the  household.  They 
missed  her  pleasant  smile  and  gentle,  patient 
ways.  But  by  degrees  the  old  cheerfulness 
returned.  They  did  not  mourn  without  hope. 
To  her,  death  had  seemed  o  ily  a  step  from  the 


98  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 

earthly  valley  into  a  world  of  light,  and  when 
they  thought  of  Rena,  it  was  not  as  lying  in 
the  cold  grave,  but  as  one  among  the  glorified 
spirits  in  heaven. 

In  the  month  of  August  after  Rena's  death, 
Chloe  went  with  her  father  and  Rachel  to  visit 
their  cousins.  The  visit  had  for  a  long  time 
been  anticipated  and  talked  about,  and  Chloe 
had  looked  forward  to  it  with  much  pleasure. 
Their  father  had  promised  to  take  them 
through  the  places  where  he  lived  when  a  boy. 
He  had  often  told  his  children  a  great  many 
stories  about  his  boyhood  and  the  places  con- 
nected with  it,  and  Chloe  liked  to  hear  them 
now  as  well  as  she  did  when  a  child.  It  was 
a  day's  journey  there,  and  the  long  green 
wagon  was  obtained  again  for  them  to  ride  in. 
The  road  wound  through  beautiful  forests, 
across  rich,  level  plains  and  over  sunny,  far- 
looking  hills.  Chloe  was  in  high  spirits. 
Every  beautiful  thing  of  the  landscape  caught 
her  eye.  She  talked  eveiy  moment,  asking  her 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  99 


father  questions  about  this  and  that,  until 
Hachel  said, — 

"Chloe,  you  talk  so  much  I'm  tired  of  hear- 
ing you!" 

Her  father  seemed  as  happy  as  she  was. 
Every  thing  around  was  to  him  full  of  old 
associations.  His  heart  was  warmed  with 
youthful  memories,  and  with  almost  youthful 
animation  he  pointed  out  familiar  objects  and 
related  incidents  connected  with  them.  Said 
he,  "We're  now  almost  to  Johnny-Cake 
Town." 

"  Johnny-Cake  Town !"  echoed  Chloe :  "  why, 
father,  what  made  them  call  it  so?" 

"Why,"  he  replied,  "they  used  to  raise  a 
great  deal  of  rye  there :  it  was  all  their  de- 
pendence; and  one  year  it  was  all  cut  off. 
They  didn't  know  what  they  should  do;  but 
they  had  their  corn  ground  and  lived  on  that. 
All  the  people  used  to  have  johnny-cakes  for 
every  meal;  and  it  has  been  called  Johnny- 
Cake  Town  ever  since." 

After   a   few   more   mile-stones   had    been 


100  CHLOE   LAXKTOS;    OR, 


passed,  "There!"  said  her  father,  pointing 
with  the  whip, — "there's  where  we  lived  when 
I  was  a  boy."  It  was  a  beautiful  green  lawn, 
with  large  apple-trees  growing  upon  it.  The 
house  was  not  there :  only  the  cellar  and  part 
of  the  old  chimney  remained. 

"Oh,  father,"  said  Chloe,  "I  wish  the  house 
was  here.  How  I  should  like  to  go  in  and 
see  all  the  old  rooms!" 

"You  can  see  how  large  the  house  was,"  he 
replied.  "The  potatoes  used  to  be  kept  in 
this  corner  of  the  cellar,  and  the  apples  in 
that;  and  the  bread-box' used  to  stand  about 
in  the  middle.  I  remember  one  fast-day 
— your  grandfather  and  grandmother  were 
very  strict  about  keeping  fast — we  all  had 
to  get  up  at  four  o'clock  in  the  morning 
and  eat  a  breakfast  of  pudding  and  milk. 
Then  we  had  to  ride  four  miles  to  meet- 
ing, and  we  couldn't  have  any  thing  more  to 
eat  until  after  sundown.  Brother  Thomas 
used  to  be  always  full  of  his  tricks;  and  he 
hadn't  a.ny  notion  of  going  all  day  without 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  101 

any  thing  to  eat.  Mother  had  made  some  of 
her  big  doughnuts  the  day  before,  and  Thomas 
said  he  knew  where  they  were.  So  he  slipped 
down  cellar  and  got  some  out  of  the  bread-box, 
and  found  his  way  out  by  the  gangway.  I 
went  out  of  the  kitchen-door  and  met  him,  and 
then  we  went  away  down  into  the  lot  and  ato 
them." 

" Didn't  they  ever  know  it?"  asked  Chloe. 

"  Not  till  we  were  grown  up ;  and  then  we, 
told  of  it.  "We  children  used  to  pick  up  apples 
together  under  these  trees,"  he  continued,  mu- 
singly,— "  Thomas  and  Arba,  I  and  Ruth.  Now 
father  and  mother  are  dead,  and  Thomas  is 
away  off  in  York  State.  He  was  a  roguish  boy, 
always'  full  of  his  tricks.  I  wish  I  could  see 
Thomas  again!" 

Neither  Chloe  ncr  Rachel  replied.  Their 
father's  sadness  was  sacred  to  him  and  to  the 
old  place,  and  they  drove  away,  silently  pon- 
dering the  olden  memories  in  their  hearts. 


102      CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


THE  FATHER  S  VISIT  AND  THE  NEW  BELL. 

THE  visit  to  the  old  place  had  made  the 
lather's  heart  grow  young  again.  As  he  sat 
upon  his  shoemaker's  bench  in  a  corner  of  the 
kitchen,  his  thoughts  -would  go  back  to  the 
days  of  his  youth,  and  for  hours  he  would 
seem  to  live  again  in  the  past.  Thomas,  the 
fun-loving,  bright-eyed  boy,  was  associated 
with  all.  Years  had  passed  since  the  brothers 
last  met,  and  a  strong  desire  arose  in  his  heart 
to  behold  him  again.  One  afternoon  in  Oc- 
tober, two  strangers  knocked  at  the  door. 
They  were  from  the  place  where  Thomas  lived. 
Business  calling  them  into  the  northwestern 
part  of  Connecticut,  he  had  requested  them  to 
go  to  his  brother's  home  and  persuade  him  to 
return  with  them.  They  would  call  for  him 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  103 


early  the  next  morning,  they  said,  if  he  would 
be  ready. 

Chloe's  father  had  so  long  cherished  the 
thought  of  seeing  Thomas  again,  that  this 
seemed  a  providential  opportunity;  and  he 
told  them  he  would  go.  His  wife  immediately 
began  to  make  preparations  for  his  early  start. 
As  he  watched  her  movements,  a  feeling  of 
regret  came  over  him.  Thomas  lived  almost 
two  hundred  miles  away,  and  it  seemed  a  very 
long  journey.  He  had  never  been  away  from 
his  family  before,  and  he  knew  not  what  might 
occur  during  his  absence.  He  saw  tears  stand- 
ing in  the  eyes  of  his  wife,  and  then  he  was 
sorry  that  he  had  consented  to  go.  But  she 
brushed  them  away,  and  said, — 

"'Twas  such  a  good  chance,  she  wouldn't 
have  him  miss  it  for  any  thing." 

Then  she  gave  an  extra  touch  to  his  clean 
collar  and  black  stock.  He  did  not- see  any 
more  tears  that  night. 

They  were  all  up  early  the  next  morning, 
•dii(\  when  the  gentlemen  came  he  was  ready. 


104  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 

Bachel,  Chloe  and  the  mother  followed  him 
out  on  the  door-step.  When  he  went  through 
the  gate,  he  turned  and  gave  them  a  sorrowfu. 
look,  and  they  heard  him  heave  a  deep  sigh. 
Then  his  wife  burst  into  tears.  Chloe  wept 
too,  and  went  to  a  window  to  watch  him  as 
they  went  down  the  road.  They  stopped  be- 
fore they  reached  the  foot  of  the  hill,  and  one 
of  the  men  came  back  to  get  the  umbrella  that 
had  been  forgotten. 

""What!"  said  he, — "crying  because  your 
husband  is  going  away?  I  go  off  to  be  gone 
weeks  at  a  time,  and  my  wife  doesn't  mind 
it." 

He  ran  back  to  the  wagon,  and  Chloe  watched 
her  father's  form  until  he  was  out  of  sight. 

They  were  sad  all  day.  The  bench  in  the 
corner  was  empty,  and  the  house  had  never 
seemed  so  lonely.  He  was  to  be  absent  three 
weeks;  and  Chloe  thought  they  never  would 
end.  But  the  time  passed  away,  anl  a  fort- 
night had  gone  before  they  were  aware. 
They  were  sitting  around  the  fire  in  the  even- 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  105 


ing,  Rachel,  Chloe  and  their  mother.  They 
could  hear  the  moaning  of  the  autumn  wind 
without,  as  it  whirled  the  dry  leaves  past  the 
door. 

"The  wind  blows  like  a  storm,"  said  the 
mother:  "I  wish  your  father  was  at  home!" 

"Only  a  week  more,"  replied  Chloe,  "and 
then  he'll  come." 

"If  he  only  gets  back  safe!"  sighed  the 
mother:  "that's  all  I  think  of.  They  were 
going  on  the  boat;  and  I'm  so  afraid  some- 
thing will  happen !" 

The  night  was  dreary,  and  they  retired  early. 
Chloe  had  not  been  asleep,  when  she  heard  the 
sound  of  a  footstep  in  the  road.  She  raised 
her  head  to  listen.  Ah !  she  knew  that  step ! 
It  was  coming  through  the  gate.  She  jumped 
up,  threw  on  her  clothes,  rushed  almost  head- 
long down  the  stairs,  and  in  a  moment  more 
was  in  her  father's  arms. 

"Oh,  father,"  said  she,  "I'm  so  glad  you've 
corne!" 

Very  socn  Eachel  and  her  mother  were  up. 


106  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


They  hastened  to  light  the  candle,  that  they 
might  look  once  more  upon  his  face.  Then 
the  fire  was  speedily  rekindled,  and  supper 
spread  for  the  loved  father.  They  gathered 
around  as  he  a.te,  and  asked  him  questions 
about  his  journey  and  his  visit.  The  journey 
was  very  pleasant,  he  said :  they  went  part  of 
the  way  by  steamboat.  Thomas  had  grown 
old  some,  but  he  was  Thomas  yet.  He  lived 
in  a  nice  place,  and  the  girls  were  all  at  home. 
Cousin  Sylvia  was  about  Chloe's  age,  and 
wanted  to  see  her  cousin  very  much.  The 
girls  had  sent  her  and  Rachel  some  pieces  of 
their  dresses.  He  had  come  back  alone,  he 
said,  with  no  accident,  and  he  thought  it  had 
done  him  good  to  see  something  of  the  world. 

"Well,"  replied  his  wife,  "you've  had  a 
good  visit  and  come  back  safe;  and  I'm  sure 
we  ought  to  be  thankful." 

It  was  late  when  they  went  again  to  their 
beds,  and  Chloe  could  not  sleep  for  joy  that 
her  father  had  safely  returned.  The  next  day 
there  was  a  great  deal  to  hear  and  to  tell,  and 


LIGHT    BEYOND    THE    CLOUDS.  107 


every  day  for  weeks  afterwards  the  father  re- 
nailed  some  incident  of  his  journey  and  visit. 
Chloe  was  never  weary  of  hearing.  His  glowing 
accounts  gave  her  glimpses  of  the  great  world 
of  which  she  as  yet  knew  nothing,  and  there 
passed  over  her  a  strong  desire  for  something 
more  and  better  than  she  yet  had  known. 
With  it  came  the  vague  yearning  she  had  often 
felt,  amounting  almost  to  pain.  She  did  not 
understand  what  that  nameless  longing  was. 
She  had  not  yet  learned  how  the  soul  some- 
times struggles  for  its  growth.  She  did  not 
know  how  a  natural  capacity  for  knowing  and 
doing  is  often  crushed  that  only  needed  culti- 
vation to  spring  up  into  active  life. 

But  the  remembrances  of  the  father's  jour- 
ney were  lost  in  a  more  interesting  topic.  The 
old-fashioned  meeting-house  was  to  be  torn 
down  and  a  new  one  built  in  its  place.  It  was 
to  be  a  handsome  building,  with  a  steeple  and 
a  bell.  Every  one  was  engaged  about  it.  The 
people  who  lived  in  the  handsome  houses  near 
the  church  were  no  more  so  than  those  in  the 


108  CHLOE    LANKTOX;    OR, 


mossy-roofed  cottages  among  the  hills.  The 
members  of  the  church,  both  rich  and  poor, 
seemed  bound  together  in  one  common  cause ; 
and  Chloe's  whole  heart  was  in  it.  Still,  she 
loved  the  old  church.  She  had  become  at- 
tached to  its  large,  square  pews  and  its  high, 
old-fashioned  pulpit.  Its  very  quaintness  was 
dear  to  her,  and  it  was  full  of  vivid  associa- 
tions. Under  its  sacred  roof  the  sweetest  peace 
she  ever  knew  first  entered  her  soul.  There, 
too,  she  had  tasted  sorrow  and  shed  bitter  tears 
over  the  lifeless  forms  of  Nancy  and  Rena. 
When  the  old  meeting-house  fell,  Chloe  could 
not  keep  back  the  tears.  But  the  work  went 
on  rapidly,  and  the  new  church  was  completed. 
It  was  considered  a  handsome  edifice,  and  they 
were  all  very  proud  of  it.  The  bell  must  be  ob- 
tained, and  then  the  church  was  to  be  dedicated. 

One  day  Rachel  and  Chloe  made  a  visit  to 
one  of  their  neighbours.  They  remained  until 
evening  and  walked  home  in  the  bright  moon- 
light. 

"How  pleasant  it  is!"  remarked  Rachel. 


LIGHT    BEYOND    THE   CLOUDS.  109 


"Oh,  it's  splendid!"  Chloe  exclaimed.  "I 
do  think  it's  such  a  beautiful  world,  Rachel!" 

"There's  trouble  enough  in  it." 

"I  know  it.  When  Nancy  died  I  thought  I 
should  never  smile  again, — never.  Then  when 
Rena  died,  I  didn't  feel  as  if  any  thing  would 
ever  seem  pleasant  again;  and  yet  it  does, — as 
pleasant  as  it  used  to,  almost.  Sometimes, 
when  I  get  to  thinking,  I  wonder  if  I  shall  be 
as  happy  as  I  am  now,  always." 

"  You  may  have  trouble ;  but  the  grace  of 
God  could  make  you  happy  then." 

"  I  don't  know,  Rachel.  I  can't  bear  to  think 

of  having  any  more  trouble.  I Oh,  hark ! 

hark!" 

"What  do  you  hear?"  said  Rachel. 

"  It's  our  new  bell  ringing !  Oh,  it  is !  It  is ! 
Don't  you  hear  it,  Rachel?  Do  hark!" 

Rachel  stopped  to  listen.  She  too  could 
plainly  hear  the  silvery  tones  as  they  fell  upon 
the  distant  air.  Yes,  it  must  be  the  new  bell. 
Still  the  two  stood  and  listened.  There  was 

something  strangely  sweet  in  the  sound  of  that 
10 


110  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OE, 


far-off  chiming,  as  it  floated  over  the  hills  and 
blended  with  the  soul  of  beauty  that  filled  the 
night. 

"Oh,  Rachel!  A'n't  it  beautiful?"  said 
Chloe.  "Oh,  I'm  so  glad!" 

"I  wonder  if  father  and  mother  hear  it?" 
said  Rachel. 

"  I  don't  know,"  was  the  reply.  "  Oh,  yes, 
there  they  are,  out  on  the  step!"  she  added,  as 
they  came  near. 

"Do  you  hear  the  new  bell,  girls?"  asked 
the  mother. 

"Hear  it?"  answered  Rachel:  "I  guess  we 
do!" 

Then  the  four  stopped  upon  the  steps  and 
listened,  until  the  cold  air  drove  them  in. 

Chloe  and  her  father  went  to  the  door  again. 
The  new  bell  was  still  ringing,  and  the  soft 
moonlight  was  upon  the  hill,  meadow  and 
forest. 

"How  long  they  ring  it!"  cried  Rachel  from 
within.  "I  guess  they're  having  a  gay  time 
over  there!" 


LIGHT    BEYOND    THE    CLOUDS.  Ill 


When  Chloe  fell  asleep  that  night,  the  moon- 
beams were  lying  upon  the  chamber-floor,  and 
still  that  far-off,  solitary  chiming  was  floating 
over  the  hills. 


112  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OE, 


XL 

THE   RIDE   TO   HARTFORD. 

CHLOE  had  an  uncle  who  lived  in  Hartford. 
He  was  her  father's  brother  Arba,  and  her 
father  was  anxious  to  see  him  after  he  had 
visited  Thomas.  But  the  autumn  was  his 
harvest-time.  His  hands  were  full  of  work, 
and  he  thought  he  would  not  go  then.  He 
would  wait,  at  least,  until  the  new  church  was 
dedicated.  But  the  winter  came  on  severely, 
and  the  visit  was  postponed  until  spring. 
Then  rainy  weather  and  unsettled  roads  made 
travelling  unpleasant :  so  the  sweet  beauty  of 
the  summer  came  upon  the  fields  and  meadows 
before  he  was  ready  to  go.  His  wife  and 
Chloe  were  going  with  him.  The  young  lady 
who  was  teaching  the  summer  school  would 
stay  with  Rachel  during  their  absence. 

Chloe  had  often  i  ead  of  cities.     There  were 


LIGHT   BEYOND    THE   CLOUDS.  118 


pictures  of  them,  too,  in  her  geography.  But 
oeyond  this  she  knew  nothing;  and  this  visit 
would  be  an  era  in  her  life.  Still,  she  did  not 
prepare  for  it  with  all  her  usual  enthusiasm. 
The  new  life  of  the  summer  had  not  so  fully 
wakened  the  same  in  her.  It  was  not  because 
she  was  not  happy.  She  had  every  thing,  she 
thought,  to  make  her  so.  There  were  many 
sweet,  youthful  joys  folded  down  deep  in  her 
heart,  and  through  all  the  day  long  she  was 
joyous  and  happy,  yet  underneath  all  was  a 
sadness  whose  meaning  she  did  not  know. 

Still,  she  enjoyed  the  ride  to  Hartford  very 
much.  The  road  led  them  through  pleasant 
villages  and  then  toiled  over  Talcott  Mountain. 
There  it  was  very  beautiful.  Chloe  had  never 
gazed  upon  a  landscape  like  the  one  spread  out 
on  either  side.  Then  the  wildness  of  the  scenery 
all  around  delighted  her.  She  saw,  in  the  field 
by  the  roadside,  the  wonderful  rock,  rent  in 
twain  from  the  top  to  the  bottom.  Then  they 
came  to  the  other  rock,  on  the  opposite  side, 
close  to  the  road.  She  almost  held  her  bmith 

II  10* 


114  CHLOE  LANKTON;  on, 

as  they  passed;  for  it  looked  just  ready  to  fall 
upon  1'iem. 

"Folks  think,"  said  the  father,  "that  the 
rock  lying  over  there  in  the  lot  used  to  be  a 
part  of  this  one." 

"Why,  father,"  said  Chloe,  "how  could  it 
be?" 

"They  say  'twould  just  fit  on;  and  they  think 
it  was  thrown  over  there  by  an  earthquake  or 
something." 

"Well,  it  might  be,"  said  the  mother. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  he  replied :  "likely  'twas  an  earth- 
quake or  something  of  the  sort ;  or  perhaps 
it  never  belonged  on  there  at  all.  I  don't 
guppose  anybody  knows." 

Chloe  did  not  speak,  it  seemed  so  wonderful 
a  thing.  She  caught  sight  of  a  deep  and  dark- 
looking  gorge  on  the  right-hand  side  of  the 
road.  It  was  spanned  by  a  little  bridge ;  and 
she  could  hear  the  surging  of  the  waters  from 
out  the  mystery  of  shadow  that  reposed  below. 
Just  beyond,  but  farther  from  the  road,  was  a 
house.  It  was  a  quaint-looking  building,  with 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  115 


a  roof  nearly  flat,  and  had  various  strangely- 
shaped  windows. 

"What  a  strange  house!"  she  exclaimed. 

"An  Englishman  built  that  house,  and  lives 
there,  I  believe,"  replied  her  father. 

"I  wonder  how  it  looks  inside?"  continued 
Chloe.  "I  wish  I  could  go  into  it." 

"There,  Chloe,"  said  her  father, — "there's 
the  road  that  goes  to  'Wadsworth  Tower.'" 

"The  one  we  can  just  see  from  the  hill  be- 
fore we  get  to  our  house?" 

"Yes,"  he  replied,  "the  same  one." 

"Look,  Chloe,"  said  he,  at  length,  pointing 
with  his  whip, — "there's  Hartford.  You  can 
see  it  now." 

Chloe  looked,  and  saw  the  tall  spires  glitter- 
ing in  the  distance.  She  could  also  see  some 
nice  residences  with  beautiful  grounds  around 
them.  When  they  entered  the  city,  she  gazed 
around  with  wondering  eyes.  The  bustling 
streets  and  showy  windows  both  bewildered 
and  delighted  her.  Uncle  Arba  lived  just 
beyond  the  city  limits,  in  a  red  house  with  a 


116  CHLOE  LAXKTON;  OR, 


meadow  in  front.  He  was  glad  to  see  them, 
and  gave  his  brother  a  cordial  greeting.  He 
left  his  work  during  the  two  days  they  stayed, 
to  show  them  the  wonders  of  the  city.  Chloe 
was  pleased  with  every  thing  she  saw,  and  her 
uncle's  honest  face  beamed  with  pleasure  ai 
her  exclamations  of  delight.  Her  father  gave 
her  some  money,  with  which  she  bought  some 
little  things  for  herself  and  Hachel. 

She  was  very  tired  when  they  arrived  at 
home.  It  was  two  or  three  weeks  before  she 
recovered  from  the  fatigue  of  the  journey  to 
Hartford.  The  next  Sabbath  she  could  not 
walk  to  church  as  she  had  done,  and"  through 
all  the  summer  she  was  weak  and  drooping. 
She  was  beginning  to  learn  the  cause  of  the 
strange  sadness.  Such  weakness  was  a  new 
thing  to  her;  and  she  tried  to  throw  it  off. 
Why  should  it  be  when  life  was  just  opening 
to  her  so  wondrously  ?  Her  heart  would  over- 
flow with  happiness,  were  it  not  that  her 
strength  and  buoyancy  were  gone.  As  it  was, 
she  was  sad,  though  gentle  and  patient. 


LIGHT    BEYOND    THE   CLOUDS.  117 


In  the  Ml  she  was  better,  and  the  old  ani- 
mation returned. 

"There!"  she  exclaimed,  one  day,  as  she  sat 
busily  sewing,  "this  dress  is  done !  I  can  wear 
it  to  school  all  winter.  I'm  so  glad  I  can  go 
this  winter.  I  want  to  learn  all  I  can ;  for  if  I 
should  go  away  to  learn  the  tailor's  trade  in 
the  spring,  I  don't  suppose  I  shall  ever  go  any 
more." 

"Do  you  want  to  learn  the  tailor's  trade?" 
asked  Rachel. 

"Why,  yes;  I  want  to  do  something,  and  I 
suppose  it  might  as  well  be  that  as  any  thing. 
You  know  I  shall  want  things  by-and-by ;  and 
I  don't  want  father  to  spend  all  he  earns  for 
me." 

"I  hope  you  won't  have  to  go  away  to 
learn,"  said  Rachel:  "I  don't  want  any  more 
partings." 

"Why,  Rachel,  it  won't  be  like  dying!" 

"I  know  it,"  replied  Rachel,  sadly;  "lut 
dying  isn't  the  worst  trouble  in  the  world." 


118  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 

"Rachel,  is  low-spirited  to-day,"  thought 
Chloe,  as  she  went  to  put  away  the  dress. 

The  first  Sabbath  in  December  was  bitterly 
cold. 

"Why,  girls,"  said  the  mother,  as  she  saw 
the  preparations,  "you  won't  think  of  going 
out  this  cold  day?" 

"I  want  to  go,  mother,"  said  Chloe:  "it 
seems  as  if  I  must  go." 

"If  Chloe  can  go,"  said  Rachel,  "I  can." 

"Well,"  said  the  careful  mother,  "you  must 
wear  thick  shawls  over  your  cloaks;  and  then 
I'm  afraid  you'll  freeze  before  you  get  there." 

They  started,  but  it  was  bitterly  cold.  The 
piercing  wind  seemed  to  reach  their  very 
vitals.  They  heard  the  bell  ring  very  clearly 
long  before  they  saw  the  top  of  the  church- 
spire.  But  very  few  people  were  present. 
It  needed  courage  to  face  that  biting  air. 

When  they  left  the  warm  church  to  go 
home,  it  seemed  colder  than  ever.  The  sky 
was  overcast  with  gloomy  clouds,  and  the 
sharp  wind  almost  took  away  their  breath. 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  119 


Chloe  turned  to  shield  her  face.  Her  eye 
rested  upon  the  pallid  stones  of  the  graveyard 
near.  There  the  forms  of  Nancy  and  Rena 
were  sleeping  the  dreamless  sleep.  She  could 
see  both  the  graves  very  plainly.  How  cold, 
bare  and  drear  they  looked ! 

The  olden  memories  came  rushing  over  her, 
and  for  a  moment  she  thought  she  could  not 
turn  away  and  leave  them  there!  But  the 
winter's  breath  must  be  faced,  and,  after  a 
ong,  cold  walk,  they  reached  their  home.  That 
night  Chloe  dreamed  that  she  was  out  again 
in  the  piercing  wind  and  saw  again  her  sisters' 
graves  cold  and  bare  upon  the  bleak  and 
wintry  hill. 

Before  another  Sabbath  came,  Chloe  was  so 
ill  that  the  physician  was  sent  for. 

She  was  sick  five  weeks,  although  during 
the  latter  part  of  the  time  she  sat  up  a  part 
of  each  day. 

"I  feel  a  great  deal  better,"  she  said  to 
Rachel,  one  bright  morning:  "I'm  going  down 
to  take  breakfast  with  you." 


120  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


She  did  so,  and  then  helped  Rachel  in  doing 
the  house-work. 

"Chloe  "  said  her  mother,  "don't  do  too 
much.  I  don't  want  you  to  get  sick  again." 

"Oh,  no,"  she  replied:  "I'm  not  a  bit  tired. 
It  seems  so  good  to  be  around  the  house 
again!" 

But  when  night  came  she  was  very,  very 
tired,  and  said  she  would  go  right  to  bed. 
Just  then,  steps  were  heard  on  the  frozen 
path,  and  voices  on  the  door-step.  The 
door  opened,  and  two  bright  faces  peeped  in. 
They  were  Chloe's  young  friends,  and  she 
hastened  to  greet  them. 

"How  do  you  do,  Chloe?"  said  they: 
"you've  been  sick,  haven't  you?" 

"Yes;  but  I've  felt  better  to-day.  Sit 
down  and  take  off  your  things." 

They  complied,  and  Eachel  placed  the  stand 
in  front  of  the  stove  with  a  lighted  candle 
upon  it.  They  all  gathered  around  it,  and 
each  one  took  out  her  knittir  g-work.  The 
father  moved  his  bench  nearer  the  stove,  and 


LIGHT    BEYOND    THE    CLOUDS. 


the  room,  looked  bright  and  pleasant.  Chloe 
took  her  knitting-work,  and  made  a  great 
effort  to  seem  cheerful.  She  tried  to  chat  as 
gayly  as  any  of  them,  and  neither  her  mother 
nor  Rachel  suspected  how  very  ill  she  felt. 
As  soon  as  they  were  gone,  she  retired  to 
rest. 

It  was  late  when  she  came  down  the  next 
morning.  Her  father  was  already  at  his 
work.  He  noticed  her  changed  face  as  she 
sank  upon  a  chair,  and  he  hastily  got  off  the 
bench  and  looked  at  her  over  his  spectacles. 
She  stretched  both  hands  towards  him,  but, 
before  she  fell,  he  caught  her  in  his  arms  and 
laid  her  upon  the  bed  in  the  tiny  bedroom 
which  he  had  built  himself.  She  did  not  rise 
from  it  for  three  weeks. 
11 


122  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OB, 


XII. 

SADNESS. 

FIVE  long  months  passed  away  while  Chloe 
was  confined  to  the  house.  The  white  snows 
melted,  and  the  gentle  spring  came  again, 
before  she  went  outside  the  door.  Never, 
perhaps,  had  spring  been  to  her  so  beautiful 
as  after  that  winter  of  illness.  Every  invalid 
knows  how  the  heart  sighs  and  pines  for  Na- 
ture's sweet  awakening.  For  weeks  she 
eagerly  watched  its  coming,  and  every  day 
she  sat  at  the  window  to  look  over  where  the 
wild  flowers  grew  and  wonder  if  they  were 
in  blossom  yet.  Rachel  went  out,  one  sunny 
day,  to  look  for  some.  She  brought  back  a 
handful  of  blue  and  white  violets  and  droop- 
ing anemones.  How  precious  they  were  to 
Chloe !  She  arranged  them  herself,  and  placed 
them  on  the  stand  where  she  could  see  them 


LIGHT   BEYOND    THE   CLOUDS.  123 


as  she  lay  upon  the  bel.  To  her  they  were 
full  of  mystic  whisperings  of  hope  and  light 
beyond  the  present. 

Not  long  after  that  she  went  into  the  yard. 
She  walked  a  little  farther  every  day,  until 
she  could  go  into  the  garden  where  her  father 
was  planting.  At  last  she  was  able  to  walk 
as  far  as  the  red  school-house  at  the  foot  of 
the  hill.  There  was  a  meeting  there  every 
Thursday  evening,  and  she  attended  several 
times.  About  this  time  her  father  had  a  little 
business  that  would  take  him  over  to  the  town 
where  they  used  to  live. 

"Why  can't  Chloe  go?"  said  the  mother. 

"She  can,"  was  the  reply,  "if  she's  able." 

Chloe  said  she  wanted  to  go  very  much. 
When  they  started,  Rachel  and  her  mother 
were  watching  them  from  the  window. 

"Chloe  looks  more  like  herself  to-day," 
said  Rachel. 

"Yes,"  replied  the  mother:  "she'll  enjoy 
going  over  there  and  seeing  the  old  school- 


124  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


house  again.  I  hope  she'll  come  back  quite 
bright."  , 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  when  they  re- 
turned, and  Chloe  was  so  tired  that  she  im- 
mediately went  upon  the  bed  in  the  little 
bedroom.  Her  mother  went  in  and  found  her 
weeping.  She  came  out  and  said,  "What's 
Chloe  crying  for?  Didn't  she  stand  her  ride 
very  well?" 

"No,"  replied  the  father;  "she  didn't — very 
well.  "When  we  got  to  the  school-house  she 
was  clear  overcome.  There  were  some  chil- 
dren playing  around  and  jumping  across  that 
little  pond  there.  She  said  she  used  to  be  as 
happy  as  they,  and  now  a  good  many  of  her 
mates  were  dead  and  her  health  was  all  gone. 
I  tried  to  comfort  her,  and  told  her  a  great 
many  had  been  worse  than  she  and  got  well. 
But  she  was  so  tired  out  that  I  had  her  go 
into  Mrs.  Bissel's  and  lie  down;  and  when  we 
came  home  she  said  it  seemed  as  if  she  could 
not  bear  to. go  by  the  school-house  again:  so  I 


LIGHT    BEYOND    THE    CLOUDS.  J.25 


took  anotner  road  home.  I'm  afraid  it'll  make 
her  worse." 

"Poor  child!"  sighed  the  mother:  "I 
thought  she'd  enjoy  it  so  much.  If  she  was 
only  as  well  as  she  used  to  be!" 

Chloe  did  not  soon  recover  from  that  ride. 
She  was  sitting,  on  one  of  the  September  morn- 
ings, in  her  mother's  rocking-chair,  before  the 
window.  It  was  warm,  and  the  window  was 
open:  she  was  leaning  her  cheek  upon  her 
hand  and  listening  to  the  sounds  without.  A 
slight  wind  gently  rustled  the  leaves;  birds 
were  singing,  and  she  could  hear  the  noise  of 
katydids  from  the  woods  across  the  meadow. 
Her  father  came  in  and  said  to  his  wife, — 

"  I  can  get  a  horse  to-day ;  and  hadn't  you 
better  go  to  the  store  with  the  butter?" 

"Why,  I  don'1  know,"  she  replied:  "there's 
a  good  deal  to  do  to-day." 

"I  can  do  it  all,"  said  Rachel. 

"I  would  go,  mother,"  spoke  Chloe:  "it's 
such  a  pleasant  day  to  ride." 

"I  don't  believe  but  that  you  can  ride  as 
11* 


126  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OE, 


far  as  Mrs.  A 's,  Chloe,"  saia  Rachel. 

"She  said  the  other  day  she  did  wish  you 
would.  Father  will  drive  slow." 

"Oh,  yes!"  said  he:  "'twon't  hurt  her  to 
ride  over  there." 

Chloe  said  she  would  go.  Mrs.  A saw 

them  coming,  and  met  her  at  the  door. 

"Why,  Chloe,"  said  she,  "how  glad  I  am  to 
see  you  here  once  more!" 

"Can  you  keep  her  till  we  come  back?'' 
asked  her  father. 

"Oh,  certainly:  she  can  lie  down  here  jusl 
as  well  as  she  can  at  home.  I  am  very  glad 
she  could  come." 

"Don't  you  get  any  better?"  she  asked, 
after  Chloe  was  comfortably  fixed  on  the  bed. 

"I  haven't  been  as  well  since  that  day  I 
went  with  father.  I  hope  I  shall  be  better 
this  winter." 

."I  hope  so.  I  guess  you  will.  You  must 
hope  for  the  best." 

"Oh,  yes,"  said  Chloe:  "if  it  wasn't  for 
hope  the  heart  would  break." 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  127 


Mrs.  A 's  cheerfulness  did  Chloe  good. 

She  returned  home  encouraged,  and  was 
brighter  and  more  cheerful  the  rest  of  the 
day.  But  when  the  cold  autumn  winds  began 
to  blow,  Chloe  was  worse.  She  did  not  walk 
a  step  for  eight  months.  The  next  summer  she 
could  walk  a  little  around  the  house,  and  also 
the  next  winter;  and  when  another  spring 
came  she  could  walk  a  few  steps  outside  the 
door. 

One  day  in  April  a  cousin  came  to  see  them. 
The  next  morning,  as  he  was  going  away,  he 
said,  "Come,  Chloe;  I've  got  my  horse  har- 
nessed, and  I  want  you  to  go  and  take  a  ride 
with  me." 

"I  would  like  to  ride  with  you  if  I  could," 
phe  replied. 

"Why,"  said  he,  "you  can  sit  up  some  and 
walk  around  the  house.  I  don't  think  it  would 
hurt  you  to  ride  a  little  way.  Come !  you've 
got  to  go.  I  know  it  will  do  you  good." 

"Well,"  she  replied,  reluctantly,  "I'll  try 
t,o  go;  but  I  know  I  am  not  able." 


128  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


Rachel  got  lier  cloak  and  bonnet,  but  as  she 
went  out  at  the  door  she  found  she  could  not 
walk  alone.  Her  cousin  led  her  to  the  gate,  and 
then  lifted  her  into  the  wagon  and  guided  the 
horse  down  the  hill  towards  the  school-house. 

"What  a  good  air  there  is  to-day!"  he  ex- 
claimed. "Now,  isn't  this  better  than  being 
shut  up  in  the  house?" 

Chloe  tried  to  smile  an  assent;  but  it  was  a 
ghastly  smile.  She  was  in  an  agony  of  pain. 
He  noticed  her  distressed  face,  and  in  alarm 
immediately  turned  back  to  the  house.  Rachel 
ran  out  to  the  gate,  and  helped  him  to  bring 
her  in  and  place  her  on  the  bed.  Then  Chloe 
wept.  Her  whole  frame  shook  with  deep  sob- 
bing. For  many  days  after,  she  lay  upon  the 
bed  in  suffering  and  sorrow.  She  paid  too 
dearly,  she  thought,  for  so  short  a  ride.  But 
after  a  time  she  was  better,  and  could  sit  up 
again  and  walk  around  her  room. 

The  fourth  of  July  came.  In  the  quiet  of 
their  hill-side  home  they  could  occasionally 
catch  the  floating  sounds  of  cells  and  notes  of 


LIGHT    BEY01TD    THE    CLOUDS.  129 


rejoicing  from  the  nearest  villages.  Cliloe 
caught  a  little  of  the  inspiration,  and  the  next 
day  she  walked  to  the  dinner-table  and  ate 
with  the  family.  It  was  a  warm  day ;  the  door 
and  windows  were  open,  and  it  was  very  plea- 
sant without.  Chloe  wished  to  look  out  once 
more  upon  the  beautiful  summer.  She  won- 
dered if  she  could  walk  to  the  door.  "I  will 
try,"  she  thought.  But  the  effort  was  too 
great.  Bachel  sprang  to  catch  her ;  and  again 
she  was  carried  to  the  bed,  and  again  she  wept 
more  bitterly  than  before. 

The  doctor  came  a  few  days  after.  She  had 
been  under  his  care  a  long  time,  and  he  was 
disappointed  that  she  had  grown  no  better. 
Said  he,  "  Chloe,  I  believe  you  are  proof.  I 
have  given  you  the  most  powerful  remedies 
that  are  known  to  the  melical  faculty,  and  I 
see  no  effect  at  all.  I  can  think  of  nothing 
more  that  I  can  do."  So  he  left;  and  soon 
after  another  was  sent  for.  He  spoke  more 

encouragingly,  and  Chloe  became  hopeful.    She 
I 


130  CHLOE   LANKTOU;    OR, 


would  do  any  thing  for  the  sake  of  being  well 
again 

"Mother,"  said  she  one  morning,  "that 
medicine  is  all  gone  that  the  doctor  thinks  will 
do  me  so  much  good." 

"I  know  it,"  was  the  reply.  "Your  father 
is  going  to  get  some  more  for  you." 

"I'm  sorry,"  she  replied,  "because  he  will 
have  to  walk." 

It  was  three  miles  to  the  village;  but  for 
love  of  his  child  the  father  walked  them  pa- 
tiently. In  the  afternoon  the  doctor  came 
and  ordered  another  kind.  Chloe  saw  her 
father  silently  preparing  to  go  again.  She 
wept  to  think  of  the  twelve  weary  miles  he 
must  tread  for  her.  He  looked  upon  her  sor- 
rowfully and  tenderly,  but  said  nothing.  When 
he  returned,  he  sat  down  by  the  side  of  the 
bed  and  said,  "  Chloe,  you  seemed  to  feel  very 
bad  because  I  had  to  go  to-day.  I'm  just  as 
willing  to  do  it  for  you  as  for  myself.  Don't 
ever  feel  so  again." 


LIGHT    BEYOND    THE    CLOUDS.  131 


"  I  couldn't  bear  to  have  you  get  so  tired," 
she  said,  "and  you've  had  to  spend  some  of 
that  money  that  you've  worked  so  hard  to  lay 
up." 

"Well,"  he  replied,  "if  I  had  not  laid  it  up 
a  dollar  a  time,  I  could  rot  get  things  for  you 
now  that  ycu  need." 


132  CHLOE    LANKTOX;    OR, 


ZIII. 
RACHEL'S  DEPARTURE. 

NEARLY  another  year  had  gone,  and  one 
day  in  the  spring,  Rachel  sat  down  with  her 
sewing  in  Chloe's  room. 

"What  did  the  doctor  say*  to  you?"  she 
asked,  listlessly. 

"I  will  tell  you  what  he  said,"  she  replied. 
"He  said  I  had  'boxed  the  compass,'  and  that 
I  had  taken  every  thing,  without  being  any 
better.  He  had  done  all  he  could,  and  should 
not  come  any  more." 

There  was  silence  in  the  little  bedroom  for 
a  few  moments.  Rachel  did  not  reply.  She 
only  sat  with  her  eyes  fixed  upon  her  work, 
quickly  and  nervously  plying  her  needle, 
while  Chloe  was  looking  at  her  wonderingly, 
as  if  she  expected  there  was  ?;omething  to  be 
told.  It  came  at  last. 


LIGHT    BEYOND    THE    CLOUDS.  1?3 


"  It's  all  settled,  Chloe :  I've  decided  to 
marry  him." 

"You  have?"  said  Chloe,  faintly. 

She  was  trying  to  smother  the  quick  pain 
that  shot  through  her  heart  at  Kachel's 
words. 

"Yes,"  continued  Rachel,  with  more  anima- 
tion: "I've  thought  it  all  over,  and  it  seems 
to  be  the  best  thing  I  can  do.  I  shall  hate 
dreadfully  to  go  away ;  but  when  I  look  ahead 
it  seems  for  the  best." 

"When  will  it  be?"  asked  Chloe. 

"  I  don't  know  exactly : — before  many  weeks, 
I  guess." 

She  was  still  looking  down  upon  her  work, 
and  her  hand  was  still  plying  the  needle.  She 
raised  her  eyes  for  the  first  time  at  the  sound 
of  Chloe's  weeping. 

"Why,  Chloe!"  she  exclaimed. 

"Oh,  Rachel!"  sobbed  Chloe:  "how  can  I 
let  you  go?" 

"I  haven't  gone  yet,"  she  replied,  cheerily: 
"so  don't  feel  so!" 


134  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


"Well,  you're  going.  I  shouldn't  care  half 
so  much  about  it,  if  I  was  well." 

"I  know  you  would  not;  neither  should  I 
feel  so  badly  about  going  away  to  leave  you, 
if  you  was  only  well,  as  you  was  once.  But 
I  don't  want  you  to  feel  like  this,"  she  added, 
soberly.  "Nobody  knows  what  a  trial  'twill 
be  for  me  to  go.  If  I  only  thought  of  that,  I 
could  not  go ;  but  when  I  look  ahead,  it  seems 
best.  There !  Now  you've  stopped  crying,  you 
look  much  better !" 

"Don't  you  remember,  Rachel,"  said  Chloe, 
"once,  when  I  was  talking  about  going  away 
to  learn  the  tailor's  trade,  you  said  you  didn't 
'want  any  more  partings'?  I  didn't  think, 
then,  that  you  would  be  the  first  one  to  go." 

"We  can't  always  tell  what's  before  us," 
remarked  Eachel.  "But!  we  won't  talk 
about  it  any  more,"  she  added,  as  she  saw 
Chloe  just  ready  to  weep  again. 

In  a  few  weeks  Rachel  was  married.  Sh. 
remained  at  home  a  fortnight  afterwards,  ana 
in  the  mean  time  preparations  were  made  for 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  135 


her  final  departure.  Every  thing  that  she 
was  to  take  away  was  gathered  together  and 
packed.  The  mother  picked  up  eyery  thing 
she  could  spare  from  her  household  stock  of 
tin  and  earthen  articles. 

"Put  this  in  somewhere,  Rachel,"  she  would 
say,  "when  you  get  to  housekeeping:  you'll 
find  that  nothing  comes  amiss." 

How  fast  the  time  fled!  Very  quickly 
Rachel's  fortnight  sped  to  its  close,  and  the 
day  came  when  she  was  to  go.  Chloe,  lying 
upon  the  bed,  listened  to  the  final  prepara- 
tions. The  last  thing  was  packed,  covers 
were  shut  and  locks  fastened.  The  wagon  that 
was  to  take  them  away  drove  up  to  the  gate, 
and  Ptachel's  father  and  husband  were  putting 
in  the  things.  Then  Rachel  came  into  the 
little  bedroom.  She  was  all  dressed  to  go,  and 
Chloe  thought  she  looked  very  pretty  in  her 
new  bonnet  and  dress.  The  sad  parting  over, 
her  mother  followed  her  out,  leaving  the  door 
open  behind  her.  Chloe  heard  a  few  tearful 
words  uttered,  the  wagon  drove  away,  and  the 


136  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


three  were  left  alone.  How  lonely  the  house 
was!  For  days,  a  profound  stillness  seemed 
to  reign  within  and  without.  The  father 
moved  around  in  his  usual  quiet  way,  the 
mother  was  silent,  and  Chloe  sad  and  uncom- 
plaining. 

So  the  months  passed  over  them.  Day  by 
day  Chloe  lay  upon  the  bed,  looking  out  long- 
ingly upon  the  fields  and  meadows,  with  the 
prayer  going  up  out  of  her  heart  to  God  that, 
if  it  was  his  holy  will,  she  might  be  restored 
to  health. 

"Chloe,"  said  her  mother  one  day,  "the 

doctor  from  C has  just  gone  by ;  and  if 

he  comes  back  this  way  I'm  going  to  call  him 
in." 

"Well,"  replied  Chloe.  They  anxiously 
watched  his  return,  and  the  father  went  out 
to  the  gate  to  hail  him.  He  suddenly  stopped 
his  horse,  and  very  willingly  alighted. 

"I've  heard  of  your  daughter's  illness," 
Chloe  heard  him  say,  "and  I  have  thought 
that  I  should  like  to  see  her." 


LIGHT    BEYOND    THE    CLOUDS.  137 


He  sat  down  by  her  bedside  and  talked 
encouragingly.  He  thought  sLe  required  very 
different  treatment  from  what  had  been  pur- 
sued. The  system  needed  strengthening.  He 
had  a  remedy  that  he  wished  her  to  try  faith- 
fully. He  would  leave  full  directions,  and  would 
call  again  in  a  few  days  to  see  how  she  was. 

"Do  you  think  you  can  cure  her?"  asked 
the  mother,  as  he  was  going  out. 

"  I  am  confident  that  I  can  help  her  a  great 
deal,"  was  the  reply. 

Chloe's  hopes  were  raised  to  the  mountain- 
tops.  She  should  be  well  again!  Oh,  how 
joyous  the  thought!  It  would  be  a  happy 
hour  when  she  should  go  again  through  the 
fields  and  meadows.  She  knew  where  she 
would  go  first.  It  would  be  right  to  the  flat 
rock  by  the  spring;  and  once  more  she  would 
lave  her  brow  in  that  pure  and  sparkling 
water,  and  the  birds  in  the  wood  close  by 
would  sing  loud  and  sweet,  as  they  used  to  do 
when  she  and  Nancy  were  children  together. 
There  were  so  many  places,  too,  she  should 


12* 


138  CHLOE  LANKTDN;  OR, 


have  to  visit.  She  should  fix  over  her  nice 
black  crape  dress  and  her  red  French  calico, 
and  then  she  would  go  to  see  Rachel.  So  she 
read  the  directions  for  the  new  medicine  over 
and  over  again,  so  as  to  make  no  mistake,  and 
tried  every  day  to  think  she  was  better. 

The  doctor  was  very  anxious  about  Chloe. 
She  had  been  given  up  by  two  physicians,  and 
to  cure  her  would  be  a  lasting  memorial  of  his 
skill.  So  he  plied  her  with  medicine.  "When 
one  remedy  failed,  he  obtained  an  other,  and 
Chloe  took  each  with  renewed  courage  and 
hope.  Her  every  faculty  was  centred  in  the 
strong  hope  of  being  well.  Her  mother  was 
encouraged,  and  her  father  willingly  spent  his 
hard-earned  money  and  walked  weary  miles 
patiently  and  uncomplainingly.  But  at  length 
the  doctor  was  forced  to  acknowledge  that  all 
had  been  of  no  avail.  Ho  was  disappointed 
and  mortified. 

"There  is  one  thing  more,"  he  said  to  Chloe. 
"  I  have  feared  for  some  time  that  you  would 
have  to  undergo  a  surgical  operatic?  before 


LIGHT   BEYOND    THE    CLOUDS.  139 


you  are  cured.  I  have  given  you  every 
remedy  I  could  think  of,  hoping  it  would  not 
have  to  be  done,  because  I  did  not  wish  to 
inflict  unnecessary  pain  upon  you;  but  now  I 
am  forced  to  believe  that  you  cannot  be  helped 
without  it." 

"Would  it  cure  me?"  she  asked. 

"I  think  it  would." 

"Tell  me  all  about  it,"  she  said. 

He  told  her  candidly  of  the  suffering  she 
would  have  to  endure,  but  depicted  in  glowing 
colours  her  speedy  recovery  from  pain  and 
disease.  Then  he  left  her  to  "think  of  it." 
She  did  think  of  it.  It  was  terrible  to  think 
of,  and  her  whole  being  shrank  from  the  ordeal 
of  suffering.  She  thought  of  it  days,  and 
thought  of  it  nights,  until  her  reason  was 
wellnigh  gone.  Her  mother  tried  to  comfort 
'her. 

"Chloe,"  said  she,  "you  have  a  hope  in 
Christ :  trust  in  him  now.  Oh,  my  poor  child, 
7  wish  I  could  bear  it  for  you!" 

The  dreaded  hour  drew  near.     "When  the 


140  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 

doctor  came,  he  found  Chloe  with,  her  eyes 
wildly  rolling,  and  trembling  in  every  nerve. 
He  gave  her  a  composing  draught,  and  then 
told  her  how  much  depended  upon  her  own 
calmness;  and  if  she  could  be  well  again  she 
never  would  regret  a  few  moments'  pain.  "If 
she  could  be  well  again !"  Those  words  thrilled 
to  her  inmost  heart.  Hope  and  courage  came 
again,  and  for  the  moment  she  was  strong. 
How  she  missed  Eachel  then !  She  longed  for 
that  strong  arm  and  calm,  quiet  presence ;  for 
her  mother  was  walking  the  kitchen  and 
wringing  her  hands. 

"Ohr"  she  moaned,  "why  was  my  child 
spared  for  this?  Was  mother  ever  called  to 
see  a  child  suffer  so  much?" 

When  Chloe  was  writhing  in  agony,  she 
thought,  even  then,  how  her  mother  was  suf- 
fering. She  would  not  add  to  it  by  screams 
and  piercing  shrieks,  but  her  lips  were  com- 
pressed till  the  blood  burst  from  them. 

It  was  over,  and  the  physician  praised  her 
fortitude  and  courage.  But  she  did  not  heed 


LIGHT   BEYOND    THE   CLOUDS.  141 


his  WDrcls.  She  was  unable  to  speak,  and 
could  scarcely  raise  her  eyelids. 

"It's  more  the  over-excitement  that  has 
prostrated  her,"  he  said.  "Her  strength  will 
come  again,  and  then  she'll  begin  to  improve." 

Her  strength  gradually  returned,  and  then 
they  waited  for  the  hour  of  health.  But  it 
did  not  come.  At  length,  in  despair,  the 
doctor  gave  her  up,  and  again  the  cloud  of 
sadness  and  sorrow  was  in  their  humble  home. 


142  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


XIV. 

DR.  MOODY. 

IT  was  a  glori  ras  morning.  How  brightly 
the  sun  shone !  How  the  birds  sang,  and  how 
sweet  and  balmy  was  the  breath  that  came  in 
through  the  open  windows !  It  was  summer 
without,  but  within  the  recesses  of  a  gentle 
heart  'twas  winter.  There  the  drifting  snows 
had  not  melted,  and  there  the  cold  winds  were 
blowing  still.  So  thought  Chloe  as  she  was 
lying  in  the  little  bedroom  so  wearily  on  that 
beautiful  morning.  Some  one  opened  the 
door-yard  gate,  and  a  light  step  came  up 
the  path,  then  across  the  kitchen  to  Chloe's 
room. 

"Why,  Jane!"  said  she,  looking  up:  "is 
this  you?" 

"Yes,"  was  the  reply.     "I  didn't  see  any 


LIGHT    BEYOND    THE    CLOUDS.  143 


one,  and  I  thought  perhaps  you'd  be  in  here. 
I  heard  a  good  while  ago  about  your  being 
sick." 

"I  am  glad  to  see  you  again,"  replied  Chloe. 
"  You  haven't  been  over  this  way  for  a  good 
while." 

"No;  but  I've  wanted  to  come.  It  looks 
natural  around  here.  I'm  sorry  to  see  you 
sick,  though." 

"I've  been  so  a  long  while,  Jane,"  replied 
Chloe. 

"  There's  a  lady  over  in  W ,"  continued 

Jane,  "that's  lain  sixteen  years  with  spinal 
complaint ;  and  I  should  think  she  was  very 
much  as  you  are.  She's  got  well  now." 

"  Got  well  ?"  echoed  Chloe,  quickly,  "  How  ? 
what  did  she  do?" 

"A  new  doctor  cured  her.  I  never  see  her; 
she  doesn't  live  near  where  I  do,  but  I  heard 
about  it." 

"What's  her  name,  and  where  does  she 
live?" 

"  Her  name  is  Miss  Skinner.    It's  about  six 


144  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OK, 


miles  from  here ;  but  'twould  be  easy  enough 
to  find  the  place." 

"If  she  can  be  cured,"  thought  Chloe, 
"why  can't  I?  Oh,  I  wish  I  could  see  her!" 

She  called  her  father  and  mother  and  told 
them  what  she  had  heard.  Her  father  said 
he  would  go  and  see  Miss  Skinner;  and  the 
next  morning  he  started  on  foot. 

Chloe  had  caught  at  Jane's  words  like  a 
drowning  man  at  a  straw.  She  pondered  upon 
them  until  the  strong  hope  in  her  mind  deep- 
ened to  a  certainty.  Her  father  would  see  the 
lady,  and  perhaps  he  would  find  the  new  doctor 
there.  She  would  not  be  surprised,  she 
thought,  if  he  should  immediately  return  with 
her  father;  and  she  busied  her  mind  in  won- 
dering what  the  new  remedy  would  be  that 
was  to  effect  the  magic  cure.  Then  she  began 
to  think  what  she  would  do  when  she  was 
well;  and,  unconsciously,  her  thoughts  wan- 
dered away  into  the  future  that  was  now 
radiant  with  the  sunlight  of  hope. 

As  the  forenoon  waned,  she  began  to  be  im- 


LIGHT    BEYOND    THE    CLOUDS.  145 


oatient  for  her  father's  return.  He  came  ai 
last,  and  her  heart  beat  quick  when  she  heard 
his  well-known  step  on  the  threshold.  She 
noticed  his  sorrowful  look  as  he  entered  her 
room;  but  he  was  weary,  she  thought,  with 
walking  so  far. 

" Father,"  said  she,  eagerly,  "how  is  Miss 
Skinner?  Is  she  well?' 

"No,"  he  replied,  with  a  sigh:  "Jane  wras 
mistaken.  It's  a  girl  that's  been  sick  about  a 
year  who  is  cured ;  but  she  wasn't  at  all  like 
you.  Miss  Skinner  isn't  any  better  than  she 
has  been." 

How  the  chill  clouds  came  down  upon 
Chloe's  heart !  It  \vas  winter  there  again. 

After  this,  they  knew  not  what  to  do. 
Chloe  did  not  quite  sink  under  her  sufferings, 
because  she  still  harboured  a  strong  hope  of 
health.  For  the  sake  of  her  father  and  mo- 
ther, she  tried  to  be  cheerful,  but  at  times  she 
was  wellnigh  desperate.  She  hoped  she  might 
either  die  or  be  well.  She  could  not,  would 
not,  think  of  lying  there  all  her  life.  She  wept 

K  13 


146  CHLOE  LAITKTON;  OR, 


a  great  deal,  and  often  prayed  for  support 
Then  she  could  be  calm  and  raise  thankful 
thoughts  for  her  quiet  home  and  loving 
friends. 

A  few  months  before  this,  a  new  physician 
had  come  into  town.  They  heard  him  spoken 
of  as  being  very  skilful ;  but,  as  every  remedy 
had  failed,  they  did  not  call  him.  One  day  a 
lady  called  to  see  Chloe.  She  was  acquainted 
with  the  new  doctor.  He  had  been  employed 
in  her  family,  and  she  thought  he  was  different 
from  any  physician  she  had  before  seen.  She 
was  confident,  if  any  one  could  help  Chloe,  it 
was  he. 

Chloe  caught  at  every  encouraging  thing, 
and  when  her  father's  work  was  done  for  the 
day,  and  he  came  into  her  room,  as  usual,  she 
told  him  what  the  lady  said,  and  added, — 

"Perhaps  he  might  help  me  so  I  could  sit 
up,  if  no  more." 

"Well,"  said  her  father,  "I  will  go  down 
after  him  to-morrow,  if  you  think  he  can  do 
you  any  good." 


LIGHT   BEYOXD    THE    CLOUDS.  14/ 


"I'd  like  to  see  him;  but  you  have  already 
paid  out  so  much  for  me,  and  it's  done  no 
good." 

He  went  the  next  morning,  and  in  the 
afternoon  the  doctor  came.  The  mother  con- 
ducted him  into  the  little  bedroom,  and  said, — 

"Chloe,  this  is  Dr.  Moody." 

"How  do  you  do,  Chloe?"  said  he,  plea- 
santly. "You've  been  confined  here  a  long 
time." 

Chloe  looked  up  almost  timidly ;  but  when 
she  saw  that  genial  face  beaming  upon  her, 
and  heard  his  kind  words,  all  constraint  was 
gone.  She  reposed  perfect  confidence  in  him 
from  the  first  moment.  The  room  seemed 
brighter  for  his  presence,  and  she  could  talk 
with  him  as  friend  with  friend.  The  doctor 
was  deeply  interested  in  the  gentle  girl  by 
whose  bedside  he  was  sitting.  He  thought 
he  never  had  seen  a  more  expressive  face. 
Her  heavy,  dark  hair  was  brushed  carelessly 
away  from  her  forehead,  and  her  black  eyes 
oeamed  with  animation  as  she  talked ;  for  his 


148  CHLOE  LAXKTON;  OR, 

genial  presence  had  raised  her  hopes  once 
more  to  the  mountain-tops.  He  stayed  several 
hours,  and  kindly  and  feelingly  inquired  into 
every  particular  of  her  illness  from  its  com- 
mencement. She  talked  without  reserve,  and 
then  waited  breathlessly  to  hear  what  he 
would  say.  He  did  not  hesitate,  but  said, — 

"So  far  as  I  can  understand  your  case,  I 
cannot  see  any  probability  of  your  permanent 
relief.  Connected  with  the  disease  of  the 
spine  are  other  distressing  maladies,  which 
are  incurable.  I  do  not  think  you  are  in  any 
immediate  danger.  You  may  live  for  years, 
but  you  will  probably  always  be  confined  to 
the  bed.  You  have  such  strong  courage  that 
I  could  easily  flatter  you  with  the  hope  of  being 
well;  but  I  would  not  do  it.  I  think  it  my 
duty  to  tell  you  your  condition  just  as  it  is." 

He  watched  her  countenance  to  see  how  she 
bore  it,  She  was  calm.  The  blow  was  so 
sudden  and  unexpected  that  she  did  not  even 
think  or  feel.  Her  heart  seemed  to  be  sud- 
denly changed  into  stone, — it  was  so  very,  very 


LIGHT   BEYOND    THE   CLOUDS.  149 


heavy.  He  talked  a  while  kindly  and  cheer- 
fully, and  then  rose  to  go.  Chloe  thought  she 
could  not  speak;  but  she  did. 

"Don't  tell  people  about  me,"  she  said:  "it's 
such  a  great  trial!" 

He  turned  and  said, — 

"  Chloe,  you  need  not  ask  me  not  to  tell  of 
it,  for  I  shall  blaze  it  far  and  near.  You 
haye  been  censured  greatly,  because  people  do 
not  know  how  much  you  suffer;  but  they  will 
know  as  soon  as  /  can  tell  it  about  town.  You 
little  know,"  he  continued,  (and  the  tears 
started  to  his  eyes,)  "what  have  been  my  feel- 
ings since  I  came  in  here  and  found  you  suffer- 
ing so  severely  from  disease,  knowing  how 
much  you  have  been  blamed  for  what  people 
knew  nothing  of." 

When  he  left,  it  seemed  as  if  all  light  and 
hope  of  Chloe's  life  went  with  him.  She  could 
only  close  her  eyes  and  almost  wish  that  be- 
fore the  morning  should  come  she  might  die. 
Her  father  soon  came  in,  and  said, — 

13* 


150  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 

"  Well,  Chloe,  what  did  the  doctor  say  ?  Did 
lie  think  he  could  help  you  any?" 

Ohloe  thought  she  could  not  answer;  but  she 
said, — 

"No,  sir:  he  says  I  can't  be  cured." 

"Well,"  replied  her  father,  "I  haven't 
thought  this  good  while  that  you  were  going 
to  get  well.  I  hoped  you  would,  but  didn't 
expect  it." 

He  said  no  more,  but  sighed  and  looked 
very  sorrowful. 

The  mother  could  hardly  command  herself 
to  go  into  Chloe's  room.  She  could  eat  no- 
thing that  night,  and  was  too  sorrowful  to 
speak. 

The  night  came  down  in  gloomy  shadows. 
Chloe,  alone  in  the  darkness,  tried  to  think 
again.  If  she  could  only  weep !  Such  stony 
calmness  was  dreadful.  The  words  of  the  doctor 
seemed  to  be  still  sounding  in  her  ears : — "  You 
may  livefo^  years,  but  you  will  probably  always 
be  confined  to  tne  bed  ''  The  dreadful  reality 
came  surging  over  her  like  the  rushing  of 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  151 


mighty  waters,  and  she  wept  as  she  never  had 
wept  before.  The  bitter  cup  was  full.  It  was 
crowded  to  her  lips,  and  she  was  tasting  its 
bitterest  dregs.  But  such  a  tempest  of  feeling 
could  not  always  last;  and  at  length  she  began 
to  think  more  calmly.  She  saw  where  she  had 
been  resting  for  earthly  comfort.  It  was  on 
the  strong  hope  of  health.  Now  it  was  a 
painful  blank:  the  weary  spirit  could  reoc 
there  no  longer.  But  in  its  place  came  her 
Saviour's  outstretched  arm,  strong,  yet  gentle 
and  comforting.  It  had  long  been  there,  but 
she,  in  her  blindness,  had  too  often  passed  it 
by.  How  precious  now  was  that  arm  of 
Strength!  She  prayed  in  fulness  of  heart, 
but  she  only  asked  for  patience  and  resigna- 
tion. Then  she  was  calm;  and  before  the  gray 
morning  came  up  in  the  east,  Chloe  was  peace- 
fully asleep. 


152  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OE, 


XV. 

THE   DEEP   CLOUD. 

IN  the  morning  the  mother  talked  with 
Chloe  about  the  doctor's  decision.  She  had 
hitherto  entertained  hope  of  better  things ;  but 
now  it  was  gone,  and  her  heart  was  wrung 
with  sorrow  for  her  child.  It  was  Chloe's 
turn  to  be  the  comforter. 

"Don't  you  know,  mother,"  she  said,  "how 
often  folks  get  well  after  the  doctors  have 
given  them  over?  Perhaps  something  will 
help  me  yet.  I'm  going  to  talk  more  with  him 
when  he  comes  again ;  and  he's  so  skilful,  and 
so  good  and  kind,  that  I'm  sure  he  will  do 
something  to  make  me  more  comfortable,  if  no 
more." 

Her  words,  although  they  were  spoken  al- 
most hopelessly,  still  had  hope  in  them,  and 
both  their  hearts  unconsciously  took  courage 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  153 


and  cheer.  They  began  to  almost  count  the 
hours  that  might  pass  away  before  he  would 
come  again.  One  sunny  afternoon  they  heard 
his  wagon  stop  at  the  door-yard  gate.  How 
glad  they  were  to  see  him!  His  presence  was 
like  sunshine;  for  the  light  and  beauty  of  a 
sympathizing  soul  shone  through  his  genial 
face. 

"How  is  it  to-day,  Chloe?"  said  he,  in  his 
pleasant  way. 

"I  have  a  little  hope  left  yet,"  she  replied. 
"It  seems  as  if  you  might  do  something  to  re- 
lieve me.  Won't  you  try,  doctor?" 

"  You  seem  to  have  confidence  in  me,"  he 
replied,  looking  upon  her  compassionately.  "  I 
wish  I  could  help  you!" 

Chloe  would  not  be  denied.  She  urged  him 
to  do  something,  she  cared  not  what.  She  was 
not  ready  to  put  away  all  hope. 

Moved  by  her  entreaties,  he  prepared  an 
extremely  powerful  remedy,  which,  he  told  her, 
would  decide  whether  she  could  be  helped  or 
not.  If  it  increased  her  suffering,  it  must  be 


154  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


instantly  discontinued;  if  otherwise,  she  might 
hope,  perhaps,  for  temporary  relief.  He  then 
left;  but  his  anxiety  on  account  of  it  would 
not  allow  him  to  let  many  days  pass  before  he 
was  there  again.  He  found  Chloe  worn  and 
wearied  with  suffering.  She  had  endured  the 
most  excruciating  agony,  but  would  not  dis- 
continue the  application,  because  she  hoped  she 
might  gain  relief  at  last.  The  doctor's  first 
step  was  to  seize  the  remainder  of  the  medi- 
cine and  throw  it  out  of  the  window. 

He  then  fully  explained  to  her  the  nature 
of  her  disease.  He  told  her  how  very  dis- 
tressing it  was,  and  that  it  would  be  still 
more  so  as  it  advanced,  and  that  it  was  pro- 
bable that  she  might  live  for  years  in  constant 
and  increasing  suffering. 

For  the  first  time,  every  shadow  of  hope  was 
gone.  As  the  doctor  went  out,  she  turned  her 
eyes  towards  the  window  and  saw  the  light  of  a 
gorgeous  sunset  streaming  across  the  meadow. 
That  glorious  light,  she  knew,  was  filling  the 
nook  wh^.re  the  wild  flowers  graw,  and  the  clear 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  155 


watersj  of  the  spring  were  sparkling  in  the 
golden  rays.  Her  own  gladsome  feet  would 
never  stray  there  again, — never,  never  !  She 
never  could  visit  her  friends  again;  she  never 
should  see  where  Eachel  lived.  But,  oh,  the 
green  grass  in  the  meadows !  If  she  could  but 
leave  this  suffering  a  moment  only,  and  place 
her  weary,  weary  head  there  once  more !  A  life 
of  constant  and  increasing  suffering !  She  knew 
— she  felt — that  it  must  be.  "What  a  bitter 
thought !  It  made  her  wild  and  ail-but  despe- 
rate. She  did  not  weep,  but  prayed, — wildly 
at  first,  and  almost  sternly.  But  her  better 
feelings  came  again,  and  she  prayed  meekly  but 
earnestly.  She  prayed  for  grace,  patience  and 
fortitude.  She  asked  to  be  perfectly  resigned 
to  God's  will,  whatever  it  should  be.  As  she 
became  composed  in  mind,  her  thoughts  went 
back  over  the  past.  All  the  events  of  her  life, 
even  to  her  early  childhood,  came  vividly  before 
her.  She  saw  little  Beulah's  bright  face  again, 
and  again  she  rambled  over  the  fields  in  the 
careless  joy  of  childhood.  She  remembered  her 


156  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


dreadful  illness,  and  how  her  child-heart  then 
learned  the  one  great  life-lesson, — that  of  de- 
pendence on  her  Saviour.  She  thought  of  the 
parting  with  their  pleasant  old  home,  and  the 
dreary  removal ;  and  then  her  mind  traced  the 
new  and  wondrous  pleasures  that  sprang  up 
through  all  her  joyous  childhood  and  youth. 
She  thought  how  Nancy's  death  had  cast  the 
first  deep  shadow  upon  her  youthful  life, — when 
the  mystery  of  living  was  pressing  upon  her  and 
her  young  heart  was  looking  forward  so  ear- 
nestly to  its  Future.  The  mystery  of  Living ! 
She  had  often  and  painfully  felt  it;  but  now  it 
was  suddenly  made  clear.  As  quick  as  thought, 
her  mind  went  back  to  the  night  when  she  and 
Kachel  stood  with  clasped  hands  over  the  dead 
form  of  Kena.  She  remembered  vividly  her 
own  words  and  Eachel's  : — 

"I  prayed  to-day,  Rachel, — and  I  never 
prayed  so  much  in  earnest  in  my  life, — that 
God  would  make  me  pure  before  I  died." 

"Oh,  Chloe,  you  don't  know  what  you  asked 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS. 


for.  You  know  the  Bible  says,  'Whom  the 
Lord  loveth,  he  chasteneth.'  " 

"I  know  it;  but  I  would  be  willing  to  be 
chastened  if  I  could  be  as  good  as  she  was." 

She  believed  that  prayer  was  to  be  answered. 
Her  path  of  life  was  clear  now.  Far,  far  be- 
yond she  could  see  it  plainly  marked  out ;  and, 
looking  back,  she  could  discern  the  hand  of 
God  leading  and  guiding  her  up  to  the  present. 
A  life  of  suffering  must  be  her's,  because  in  no 
other  way  could  she  be  made  pure  in  heart, 
In  no  other  way  could  his  great  design  be  ac- 
complished. She  could  be  resigned;  she  could 
be  happy,  even.  All  her  sorrow  now  was  for 
her  father  and  mother.  She  felt  that  the  blow 
would  fall  upon  them,  not  upon  her.  She 
could  bear  it  all  herself ;  but  those  dear  parents ! 
She  wished  that  she  was  able  to  keep  away  all 
trouble  from  their  declining  years.  She  wished 
their  aged  feet  might  walk  to  the  grave  amid 
sunshine  and  flowers.  She  wanted  to  fold  her 
arms  about  them  and  shield  them  from  every 
tempest  and  every  storm. 

14 


158  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OE, 


But  it  could  not  be.  She  knew  that  what- 
ever came  upon  her  fell  still  more  heavily 
upon  them.  She  could  only  pray  that  God 
would  support  them.  Then,  happy  and  peace- 
ful in  mind,  trusting  in  holy  promises,  Chloe 
slept. 

The  sun  was  brightly  shining  when  she  was 
conscious  of  taking  up  another  day's  buiden 
of  suffering.  At  the  first  awakening,  her  mind 
endeavoured  to  collect  the  vague  remem- 
brances of  the  night.  It  flashed  upon  her. — 
those  hours  of  thought  and  deep  feeling,  of 
self-examination  and  retrospect,  that  made 
life  so  clear  and  brought  to  her  such  peaceful 
trust.  The  morning  skies  were  not  more 
serene  in  their  azure  than  was  she  in  faith  in 
ner  Maker. 

But  the  parents  were  full  of  sorrow.  Chloe 
pitied  them  deeply.  Their  breakfast  was  eaten 
in  silence,  and  then  the  father  and  mother 
gathered  around  the  lone  family  altar.  Once 
happy  children  bowed  there  with  them;  but 
one  by  one  their  household  treasures  had  been 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  159 


taken  away.  Chloe  listened  to  her  father's 
prayer.  She  heard  him  ask  that  they  each 
might  be  resigned  to  God's  will,  whatever  it- 
should  be ;  and  she  knew  that  her  mother  was 
weeping.  After  the  prayer,  the  mother  we,nt 
into  Chloe's  room.  She  sat  down  by  the  bed 
and  wept  again.  Chloe  tried  to  comfort  her. 

"  I  hope  I  shall  be  spared  to  take  care  of 
you,"  she  said,  as  cheerily  as  she  could. 

But  still  the  mother  wept. 

"How  can  I  see  you  suffer  so,"  she  said, 
"when  I  had  such  hope  that  you  would  get 
about  again?" 

"Mother,"  replied  Chloe,  "I  only  hope  that 
I  shall  be  resigned.  I  feel  that  God  knows 
what  is  best  for  us." 


360  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


XVI. 

\ 

THE   LIGHT   BEYOND. 

DAYS,  weeks  and  months  passed  away, 
every  moment  of  which  brought  its  weight  of 
suffering  for  Chloe.  Her  nights  were  sleep- 
less ones ;  but  during  the  dark  hours  she 
prayed  much  for  support  under  the  burden  of 
trouble.  She  earnestly  asked  for  patience  to 
bear  her  terrible  suffering,  and  for  perfect  re- 
signation to  God's  will,  whatever  it  should  be. 
Her  days  were  filled  with  faith  and  trust. 
Her  heart  could  say,  at  last,  "  I'm  willing, 
oh,  my  God!"  She  could  suffer  patiently.  She 
was  willing  to  endure  all  that  she  knew  the 
coming  years  would  bring.  She  could  take 
cheerfully  all  that  her  heavenly  Father  saw  fit 
k>  place  upon  her. 

She  began  to  see  for  the  first  time  how  many 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  161 


blessings  she  had.  Her  quiet  home  and  loving 
parents, — what  should  she  do  without  them  ? 
She  had  the  free  use  of  her  hands  and  eyes. 
How  glad  she  was  of  these !  New  friends  were 
springing  up  all  around  her,  filling  her  heart 
with  joy.  Previous  to  this,  Chloe  had  been 
neglected.  The  trials  incident  to  her  peculiar 
disease  had  not  been  made  known,  and  many 
times  she  was  blamed  and  censured.  But  Dr. 
Moody 's  influence  was  soon  felt.  Many  times 
he  told  the  story  of  her  dreadful  suffering 
and  her  sweet  patience  and  resignation ;  and 
no  sooner  was  it  made  known  than  she  had 
the  deepest  sympathy  from  all.  Old  friends, 
with  hearts  full  of  love  and  kindness,  came 
around  her ;  and  many  who  before  were  entire 
strangers  soon  found  their  way  over  the  hills 
to  the  tiny  bedroom.  To  see  Chloe  was  to 
love  her;  and  sweet  friendships  were  then 
formed  that  have  never  yet  been  broken.  The 
neighbours  round  about  them  displayed  much 
kindness;  and  Chloe  thought  her  cup  over- 
flowed with  blessings.  The  little  children 

L  14* 


162  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


began  to  be  interested.  There  was  a  strife 
among  them  to  see  which  would  find  the  first 
spring-flowers  or  the  first  ripe  berries  for 
Chloe.  Even  before  the  wild  flowers  came, 
before  the  snows  were  gone,  Chloe  had  fresh 
green  mosses  from  the  woods.  The  little  girls 
brought  their  new  dolls,  and  the  boys  their 
nice  toys,  for  her  to  see ;  and  a  new  dress  or 
jacket  was  not  considered  finished  until  she 
had  bestowed  praise  and  admiration.  She 
loved  children,  and  could  enter  into  their  little 
joys  and  griefs ;  and,  in  return,  their  child- 
hands  scattered  the  roses  and  lilies  all  along 
ber  way. 

Still,  in  the  midst  of  her  happiness  she  must 
turn  away  to  look  in  the  face  the  reality  of 
her  life.  There  was  sorrow  there ;  but  it  was 
not  for  herself.  For  the  sake  of  her  Saviour 
she  had  taken  up  cheerfully  the  cross  of  her 
suffering  and  had  found  it  lightened  of  half 
its  weight.  It  was  upon  the  parents  that  the 
trouble  fell.  It  seemed  sometimes  greater 
than  they  could  bear;  and  that  she  must  ever 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  163 


rest  a  burden  upon  them  was  Chloe's  greatest 
sorrow. 

For  a  long  time  she  had  been  revolving  in 
her  own  mind  in  what  way  her  mother's  cares 
might  be  relieved.  At  length,  one  sleepless 
night,  a  plan  occurred  to  her.  She  did  not 
mention  it  to  her  parents  in  the  morning;  but 
it  was  constantly  in  her  mind  througn  the 
day.  She  thought  it  all  over  how  it  could  be 
done,  and  then,  at  night,  after  supper,  when 
they  sat  talking  together  in  her  room,  she 
said, — 

"Father,  I've  thought  of  a  new  plan." 

"Well,  what  is  it?"  he  asked. 

"I've  been  thinking,"  she  replied,  "that 
there  might  be  a  little  cupboard  fixed  at  the 
aead  of  my  bed, — right  here,  you  know,  where 
I  can  reach  it.  Then  my  things  could  be  kept 
in  it,  where  I  could  get  them  myself;  and  it 
would  save  mother  a  great  deal  of  work." 

"Well,"  he  replied,  starting  up,  "it  would 
be  handy  and  would  save  your  mother  a  great 
many  steps.  I  can  make  one  and  fix  it  in  the 


164  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


wall :  there's  such  a  wide  place  between  these 
partitions  that  it  would  make  the  cupooard 
quite  deep." 

"So  it  will,  father, "replied  Chloe.  "How 
nice  it  will  be!" 

The  next  morning  he  went  to  work  upon  it. 
He  made  it  with  three  shelves;  and,  when  it 
was  done,  he  inserted  it  in  the  wall,  as  he  had 
said.  Then  he  put  on  the  door,  and  the  cup- 
board was  completed.  Chloe  was  very  glad 
and  very  thankful,  and  found  much  pleasure 
in  arranging  the  shelves  herself.  In  one 
corner  she  placed  her  medicine  and  the  little 
glass  to  prepare  it  in.  Her  mother  brought 
a  small  green-edged  plate,  with  a  nice  cake  of 
butter  upon  it,  and  two  brown  cups  that  she 
had  bought  for  Nancy  and  Chloe  when  they 
were  children  together.  Several  other  things 
were  added;  and,  when  it  was  all  arranged, 
Chloe  could  not  content  herself  without  occa- 
sionally opening  the  door  of  the  new  cupboard 
to  see  the  effect  it  produced.  After  that,  she 
had  a  shelf  made  and  fitted  to  the  wall  next 


LIOST  BEYONt)  THE  CLOUDS.     l65 


to  the  cupboard.  Then  she  made  some  boxes 
of  pasteboard  and  placed  them  on  the  shelf  to 
contain  articles  for  hei  own  use. 

But  no  sooner  was  this  done  than  her 
energies  were  called  out  to  meet  another 
emergency.  The  winter  was  drawing  near, 
and  she  would  need  a  fire  in  her  room.  There 
was  no  fireplace;  and  a  stove  and  pipe  must 
be  obtained.  How  was  it  to  be  done?  She 
could  see  no  way.  Night  after  night  she 
pondered  and  thought.  At  length  she  said  to 
herself,  "My  nice  dresses  and  things  that  I 
used  to  wear  to  meeting,  I  never  shall  wear 
them  again.  Perhaps  I  can  sell  them.  I  must 
try." 

So  she  offered  them  to  the  friends  who  came 
to  see  her,  and  was  quite  surprised  that  they 
found  so  ready  a  sale.  Her  mother  wept  when 
they  were  carried  away. 

"Why,  Chloe,"  she  said,  "how  could  you 
have  resolution  of  mind  to  sell  them?" 

"It  was  very  trying  to  me,  mother,"  she 
replied,  tears  starting  to  her  eyes,  "but  I  could 


166  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


do  it,  because  I  saw  it  was  for  the  best.  I  never 
can  wear  them  again ;  and  you  know  how  much 
we  need  the  money." 

The  stove  and  pipe  were  obtained,  and 
through  all  that  long  cold  winter  Chloe's 
room  was  ever  cheerful,  comfortable  and  plea- 
sant. 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  167 


XVII. 
"OUT  OP   THE   SHADOW   INTO   THE   SUN." 

CHLOE'S  cheerfulness  was  a  mystery  to  a 
great  many  of  her  friends.  They  could  not 
understand  why  she  was  always  so  happy. 

"Chloe,"  said  Dr.  Moody  one  day,  "do  you 
take  any  comfort  at  all?" 

"Oh,  yes,"  she  replied:  "I  have  a  great 
many  things  to  enjoy  every  day." 

"Is  it  possible,"  said  he,  "that  one  in  your 
situation  can  enjoy  any  thing?" 

"Yes:  I  think  I  could  not  be  placed  in  a 
condition  that  would  destroy  all  enjoyment." 

"I  think,"  said  he,  "if  I  were  in  your  place 
I  should  be  wretched.  I  should  not  wish  to 
live.  I  could  not  have  patience  to  endure  all 
that  I  know  you  suffer  daily." 

"I  am  a  great  deal  happier  now,"  she  re- 
plied, "than  I  was  before  you  told  me  I  could 


168  CHLOE  LANKTOK;  on., 


not  get  well.  I  don't  have  so  many  disap- 
pointments. I  know  what  is  before  me  and 
am  resigned  to  it." 

•''Chloe,"  said  he,  "are  you  really  resigned? 
Can  you  say  that  you  are  perfectly  willing  to 
lie  for  years  and  suffer  so  much?" 

"Yes,"  she  said,  calmly,  "I am  witting!" 

"Chloe,"  said  he,  "I  believe  you  speak  the 
truth;  but  you  are  a  mystery  to  me.  I  don't 
know  how  any  one  can  feel  like  that.  I  never 
was  more  surprised  in  my  life  than  I  was  the 
first  time  I  came  here  and  found  you  lying 
here  with  such  a  happy  face." 

"How  did  you  expect  to  find  me?"  said  she, 
smiling.  ""With  a  face  'long  as  my  arm'?" 

"  I  thought  you'd  be  gloomy  and  desponding, 
as  a  matter  of  course." 

"I  feel  happy,  Dr.  Moody,"  she  said.  "I 
don't  think  I  should,  though,  if  I  hadn't  Jesus 
Christ  to  lean  upon.  I  often  think  of  what  he 
said  of  the  'fowls  of  the  air,' — how  they  'sow 
not,  neither  do  they  reap,  yet  our  heavenl} 
Father  feedeth  them. ' ' 


LIGHT    BEYOND    THE    CLOUDS.  169 


"Chloe,"  said  he,  "do  you  have  such  truet 
as  that?" 

"Yes,  that  is  all  my  trust.  What  else  have 
T  to  lean  upon?" 

"True,  true,  poor  child!  You  have  not 
much  of  this  world's  happiness." 

He  spoke  musingly,  and  sat  with  his  eyes 
fixed  upon  the  floor.  Chloe  watcjied  his  bene- 
volent face,  and  only  wished  that  he,  her  plea- 
sant friend,  knew  the  joy  of  the  Christian. 

"Chloe,"  said  he,  suddenly,  "how  long  have 
you  been  confined  to  your  bed?" 

"It's  just  about  five  years  now,"  she  replied. 
"  When  you  first  came  to  see  me,  I  had  been 
confined  to  the  bed  four  years ;  and  it  was  then 
just  seven  years  and  a  half  since  I  was  first 
taken  sick." 

"  I  was  thinking  about  you,"  said  Dr.  Moody, 
"when  I  was  riding  up  here  this  beautiful 
afternoon.  I  wondered  how  long  it  had  beeu 
since  you  had  been  out  of  doors." 

"Oh,"  she  exclaimed,  "what  would  I  not 
give  to  go  out  once  more!  Couldn't  I  be 

15 


170  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 

taken  out?"  she  asked,  eagerly.  "Can't  you, 
won't  you  carry  me  out,  Dr.  Moody?" 

"I  would  willingly  carry  you,"  he  replied; 
"but  you  know  how  you  suffer  whenever  you 
are  moved." 

"Well,  I  wouldn't  care  if  I  could  only  go 
out  once,  once  more!" 

"  I  know  it  would  be  very  delightful,  Chloe," 
he  replied;  "but  it  would  make  you  suffer  so 
much  that  I  am  afraid  it  wouldn't  pay." 

But  she  would  not  be  denied.  She  pleaded 
until  he  started  up  and  said, — 

"  Chloe,  don't  say  any  more :  you  shall  go, 
or,  at  least,  I  will  try,  and  if  you  cannot  endure 
it  I  will  put  you  back." 

He  first  carried  out  the  rocking-chair  and 
placed  it  upon  the  green  grass  by  the  side  of 
the  path  that  led  to  the  gate.  Then  he  came 
back,  and,  taking  her  in  his  arms,  walked  with 
slow  and  careful  step  to  the  door. 

"My  poor  child,"  said  he,  as  he  noticed  the 
expression  of  agony  upon  her  face,  "it's  killing 
you!  I  had  better  take  you  back  i" 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  171 


"No,  no!"  she  cried :  "I  will  not  go  back!" 
He  carried  her  off  from  the  door-step  and 
placed  her  in  the  rocking-chair.  It  was  a 
warm  afternoon  in  July.  The  bright  flowers 
in  the  yard  were  in  the  gayest  blossom,  and  the 
tamarack-trees  that  shaded  the  windows  were 
in  fresh  bloom.  The  birds  sang,  and  the  trees 
around  waved  their  branches,  sending  out  from 
their  leafy  depths  dreamy  sighs  and  gentle 
whisperings.  A  thin  curl  of  smoke  was  issu- 
ing from  one  of  the  chimneys  of  the  house 
upon  the  summit  of  the  hill.  At  the  foot,  the 
windows  of  the  red  school-house  were  open, 
and  there  came  floating  upon  the  still  air  the 
sounds  of  the  children's  voices  from  within. 
As  far  as  the  eye  could  see,  the  whole  land- 
scape was  joyous  with  the  summer's  beauty 
and  gladness.  Chloe,  in  silence,  gazed  upon 
every  thing  around  her,  while  Dr.  Moody  stood 
back,  with  his  arms  folded  and  his  lip  tremu- 
ous  with  emotion.  She  turned  her  head  to 
.ook  up  to  the  window  of  the  chamber  that  she 
and  Rachel  had  for  their  own.  As  she  did  so, 


172  CHLOE  LANKTON;  on, 


she  caught  sight  of  his  face,  and,  burying  her 
own  in  her  hands,  she  burst  into  tears. 

"You  must  go  in  now,"  he  said,  stepping 
forward. 

"No,  no!"  she  cried:  "I  wish  to  look 
longer." 

She  gazed  around  again  and  again;  for  she 
knew  it  was  for  the  last  time. 

"You  have  been  out  twenty  minutes,"  said 
he.  "You  must  go  in." 

He  took  her  in  his  arms  and  carried  her 
slowly  out  of  the  summer  sunshine  into  the 
dreary  shadow  of  walls  again.  She  was  in 
great  distress  when  she  was  laid  upon  the  bed ; 
and  her  heart  seemed  ready  to  break.  The 
doctor  walked  the  room,  and  his  tears  dropped 
upon  the  floor. 

"I  am  sorry  I  came  to-day,"  said  he;  "but 
I  am  not  to  blame;  for  I  should  not  have  car- 
ried you  out  if  you  had  not  urged  me.  I  knew 
how  it  would  affect  you.  You  need  not  ask 
me  to  carry  you  out  again;  for  I  never  shall." 

Her  removal  was  attended  with  more  serious 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  173 

consequences  than  even  Dr.  Moody  had  feared. 
For  many  weeks  she  was  forced  to  endure 
dreadful  suffering. 

''My  poor  child,"  said  the  doctor,  "how 
can  you  endure  it?  To  think  that  you  could 
not  be  carried  out  of  doors  to  look  a  few  mo- 
ments without  suffering  so  much!  I  blame 
myself  for  it.  If  I  had  not  carried  you  out, 
you  would  have  been  saved  all  this." 

But  Chloe  did  not  regret  it.  She  had  felt 
once  more  the  green  grass  under  her  feet  and 
the  free  air  upon  her  brow ;  and  the  memory, 
like  a  beautiful  dream,  was  folded  down  deep 
in  her  heart.  There  was  a  sweet  picture 
painted  there,  that  would  never  be  effaced.  It 
was  an  old,  familiar  picture,  retouched  with 
new  and  glowing  colours.  A  grass-grown 
door-yard,  with  gay  flowers  blooming  brightly 
there;  a  green  meadow  and  hill-side  with 
waving  forest-trees;  a  quaint  old  house,  with 
the  blue  smoke  curling  from  its  chimney;  and 
the  red  school-house,  with  open  windows,  and 
monotonous  sound  of  children's  voices  from 

15* 


174  CHLOE  LANKTON;  on, 


within.  In  every  point  of  the  picture,  too, 
were  hidden  old  associations,  now  newly 
awakened.  She  gazed  upon  the  one  and 
revelled  in  the  other  until  her  heart  grew 
young  and  light  again.  But  it  could  not 
always  last.  She  must  turn  away  to  look  in 
the  face  the  stern  reality  of  her  life.  Hence- 
forth the  tiny  bedroom  must  be  all  her  little 
world.  She  must  never  hope  to  go  out  again 
until  she  should  be  borne  away  to  her  last 
resting-place.  Then  other  cares  began  to 
press  upon  her.  The  parents  were  growing 
old.  Sorrow  and  trouble  had  left  their  im- 
press, and  the  strength  of  each  was  beginning 
to  yield.  The  father  was  unable  to  work  as 
formerly.  The  precious  savings  of  his  hard- 
working days  had  been  spent  for  her;  and 
Chloe  foresaw  that,  sooner  or  later,  the  care 
of  obtaining  things  necessary  for  family  use 
must  fall  upon  her.  She  had  hitherto  thought 
her  burden  as  heavy  as  she  could  well  bear; 
but  this  only  called  out  another  faculty. 
"If  I  could  only  do  something,"  she  said 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  175 


one  day  to  a  young  friend  who  came  in,  "I 
should  be  so  much  happier !  I  cannot  bear  to 
be  obliged  to  be  idle." 

"What  could  you  do,  Chloe?"  he  asked. 
'•'Surely  you  cannot,  sew  ?" 

"No,"  she  replied;  "I  am  not  able  to  sew, 
now;  but  I  think  I  could  make  needle-books, 
or  something  of  the  kind,  if  I  had  any  thing 
to  make  them  of." 

"What  would  you  want?"  he  asked. 

"I  should  want  pieces  of  silks  and  such 
things,"  she  replied;  "and  I  suppose  I  should 
need  some  pasteboard  and  some  flannel." 

"Perhaps  I  can  get  you  some,"  he  said. 

So  he  went  around  among  his  lady  ac- 
quaintances; and  in  about  a  week  from  that 
time  he  came  again  to  Chloe  and  brought  a 
roll  of  pieces  of  nice  silks  and  gave  her  some 
money  to  buy  pasteboard  and  flannel.  Chloe 
was  both  glad  and  thankful.  She  did  not 
know  how  to  make  them ;  but  she  began  by 
cutting  the  patterns,  and  succeeded  in  the 
making  even  beyond  her  own  expectations. 


176  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


In  a  few  weeks  she  Lad  sold  three  and  re- 
ceived fifty  cents  for  them.  It  was  the  first 
money  she  had  earned  since  she  was  confined 
to  her  bed;  and  she  was  much  encouraged. 
Then  she  made  a  small  work-box ;  and  that  was 
sold.  Her  friends  at  length  became  inte- 
rested, and  sent  her  nice  paper  and  pretty 
pictures  for  work-boxes.  She  had  a  great  deal 
of  natural  ingenuity  and  an  innate  sense  of 
artistic  beauty  and  harmony,  and  there  was  a 
perfectness,  rarely  equalled,  in  whatever  came 
from  her  fingers.  No  sooner  were  these  seen 
and  admired  than  orders  began  to  come  in 
from  ladies  round  about.  Thus  encouraged, 
she  worked  on.  Tiie  planning  beguiled  the 
nights  of  their  painful  moments,  and  during 
the  hours  of  the  day  she  was  happy  in  gratify- 
ing her  own  taste,  until  at  length  the  demand 
for  her  exquisitely  designed  and  made  needle- 
books  and  work-boxes  was  greater  than  she 
could  supply. 

"There,  mother!"  she  said :  "you  know  I 
told  you  once  I  hoped  I  should  be  spared  to 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  177 


take  care  of  you.  How  could  I  do  it  if  God 
had  not  given  me  this  gift?  How  thankful  I 
am  for  my  hands  and  eyes!" 

So  she  worked,  prayed  and  trusted,  firmly 
believing  that  to  her  heavenly  Father  she  was 
"of  more  value  than  many  sparrows." 


178  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OB, 


XVIII. 

NEAR   THE   GRAVE. 

BUT  Chloe's  faith  was  to  meet  another  trial,— 
another  and  perhaps  a  stronger  test.  She 
had  already  shown  her  resignation  to  long 
years  of  sorrow  and  suffering,  and  could  find 
sweetness  even  in  such  a  life.  Could  she  bid 
adieu  to  it  now,  to  taste  the  bitterness  of 
dying?  And  could  she  meet,  without  shrink- 
ing, all  the  darkness  and  terror  of  the  grave? 
Could  she  "walk  through  the  valley  of  the 
shadow  of  death  and  fear  no  evil"  ? 

One  night,  when  lying  alone  in  the  dark- 
ness, she  was  taken  very  ill.  It  was  an  effect 
of  the  disease  that  she  knew  would  come;  and 
the  doctor  had  told  her  that  when  it  came  he 
feared  she  would  die.  A  deathlike  chill  and 
cold  perspiration  came  over  her;  she  could 
not  move ;  she  could  not  speak,  even,  to  wake 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  179 


her  parents,  who  were  quietly  sleeping  in  the 
next  room.  "Am  I  dying?"  she  thought. 
•'Can  it  be  death?"  Her  father  arose  at  five 
o'clock, — his  usual  hour, — and  opened  the  door 
of  Chloe's  room,  as  he  always  did,  to  look  in 
upon  her.  Seeing  her  alarming  condition,  he 
immediately  called  his  wife,  then  took  a  hasty 
breakfast  and  started  to  walk  the  three  miles 
to  Dr.  Moody 's  residence. 

"I  would  willingly  go,"  said  the  doctor  to 
him,  "if  I  could  do  her  any  good;  but  I  can- 
not endure  to  see  her  suffer  so  much,  when 
I  know  I  can  do  nothing  for  her  relief."  How- 
ever, moved  by  the  father's  urgent  entreaties, 
he  went. 

"I  have  come,  Chloe,"  he  said,  as  he  entered 
the  room;  "but  I  can  do  nothing  for  you." 

"Tell  me  what  you  think  of  me,"  she  said, 
with  difficulty. 

"I  think  it  very  doubtful  whether  you  live 
many  days,"  was  the  reply.  "If  you  survive 
this,  you  must  drag  out  a  life  of  pain  and 
misery." 


180  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


Before  the  day  waned,  Chloe  grew  worse ; 
and  for  two  days  she  suffered  unspeakable 
distress.  The  doctor  could  do  nothing  to 
relieve  her,  and  the  parents  were  in  an  agony 
of  grief.  In  her  childhood  days,  Chloe  was 
the  pet  of  the  household,  and  as  she  emerged 
into  youth  she  grew  more  and  more  to  be  the 
light  of  their  humble  home.  Loss  and  be- 
reavement had  bound  the  three  together  in  no 
common  tie;  and  now  Chloe  was  the  idol  of 
her  parents'  hearts,  the  prop  of  their  declining 
years.  Her  mother,  in  this  greatest  of  all 
her  trials,  endeavoured  to  bring  to  her  own 
mind  the  peace  and  resignation  of  the  gospel. 
She  tried  to  pray,  to  lift  her  stricken  heart  to 
God;  and  she  arose  from  her  knees  with  the 
calmness  that  always  follows  an  earnest 
prayer.  She  would  give  her  up  then,  she 
thought,  without  a  murmur.  She  went  into 
the  little  bedroom  and  said, — 

"Chloe,  how  are  you  in  mind?  Do  you  feel 
willing  to  die?" 

"I  am  willing  for  myself,"  replied  Chloe. 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  181 


"I  feel  that  I  love  Jesus  and  that  I  am  going 
to  a  better  world ;  out  I  do  cling  so  to  father 
and  you !  If  it  is  the  will  of  God  to  spare  me, 
I  had  rather  live  to  be  a  comfort  to  you." 

The  mother  pressed  the  hand  of  her  child, 
and  then  her  maternal  love  burst  forth. 

"My  dear  child,"  she  cried,  "how  can  I, 
oh,  how  can  I  give  you  up?  I  know  God  has 
the  best  right  to  you;  but  it  is  so  hard  to 
part!  Oh,  how  can  I  give  you  up?" 

"Mother,"  said  Chloe,  "will  you  forgive  all 
that  you  have  seen  wrong  in  me?" 

"My  dear  child,"  said  the  mother,  "I  have 
nothing  to  forgive.  I  am  afraid  I  think  you 
are  too  perfect." 

Chloe 's  heart  was  ready  to  break  at  the 
thought  of  leaving  her  parents,  and  her  mo- 
ther went,  sobbing,  from  the  room.  She  could 
not  trust  herself  to  enter  it  again;  for  Chloe 
could  not  live,  it  was  thought,  until  the  morn- 
ing, and  the  mother  was  wearied  with  care 
and  anxiety,  and  could  not  see  her  child  pass 
through  the  agonies  of  death.  So,  leaving 


16 


182  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OE, 

her  in  the  care  of  tried  and  valued  friends, 
she  sought  her  sleepless  pillow.  All  night 
long  the  face  of  her  suffering  one  was  right 
before  her.  Her  heart  was  borne  down  with 
the  weight  of  woe.  The  last  gleam  of  the 
brightness  of  life  would  find  a  grave  with 
Chloe.  She  arose  in  the  morning,  dreading 
and  fearing  to  hear  the  tidings.  But  Chloe 
was  still  alive.  To  the  surprise  and  astonish- 
ment of  all,  in  a  few  days  she  was  slightly 
better,  and  lived  on  through  the  weeks  of  ex- 
treme suffering  that  followed.  It  was  a  long 
time  before  she  was  able  to  work  again ;  but 
she  was  spared,  and  that  was  sufficient  cause 
for  the  deepest  joy  and  thankfulness.  Said 
Dr.  Moody  to  her  one  day,  "Chloe,  if  the 
day  of  miracles  was  not  passed  away,  I 
should  think  that  God  was  working  one  in 
your  case." 

"I  suppose  my  work  is  not  done  yet,"  she 
replied:  "so  he  has  let  me  live  a  little  longer. 
Anyway,  Dr.  Moody,  I  feel  the  certainty  of 
•death  r,ow  as  I  never  felt  it  before." 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  183 

"I  thought  you  would  die,  Chloe,"  said  he, 
"and  I  told  you  so.  It  is  only  the  knowledge 
of  your  suffering  that  makes  me  not  glad  that, 
vou  are  spared." 

Not  long  after  this,  Dr.  Moody  left  the  town 
•to  make  his  home  in  a  distant  city.  Before 
he  left,  he  came  one  day  to  say  the  last  "good- 
bye" to  Chloe. 

"Dr.  Moody,"  said  Chloe,  "you  have  been  a 
kind  friend  to  me;  and  I  cannot  tell  you  how 
much  I  shall  miss  you.  I  never  can  forget 
you." 

"I  never  shall  forget  you,  Chloe, — never. 
You  have  done  me  good.  Remember  me 
when  you  pray." 

Chloe  never  saw  Dr.  Moody  again.  Only 
two  years,  and  then  came  the  sad  news  of  his 
death;  and  Chloe's  tears  fell  at  the  tidings,  for 
in  him  she  knew  that  she  had  lost  a  friend. 
But  his  memory  lived  in  Chloe's  heart,  and  ii 
lives  there  still,  growing  fresh  and  fragrant 
over  tne  wreck  of  the  years.  Even  now, 
when  Chloe,  in  her  gentle  talks,  brings  up  the 


184  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OB, 


olden  association,  her  thoughts  and  words  often 
cluster  around  the  memory  of  him  who  was 
the  kind  physician,  the  full-souled  man,  and 
ever  to  her  a  true  and  pleasant  friend. 


LIGHT   BEYONI    THE   CLOUDS.  185 


XIX. 
PLEASANT   INCIDENTS. 

ONE  morning  in  spring,  a  little  boy  came  to 
see  Chloe.  He  was  a  bright-looking  little  fel- 
iOW,  with  a  pleasant  face  and  blue  eyes  that 
now  were  sparkling  with  animation.  He  had 
in  one  hand  a  small  hoe  and  in  the  other  a 
damask  rose-bush. 

"I've  brought  this  for  you,  Chloe,"  he  said; 
"  and  I  want  to  set  it  out  right  before  your 
window,  where  you  can  see  it." 

"Why;  did  you  bring  it  for  me ?"  said  Chloe. 
"  How  much  I  shall  think  of  it !  Father  will 
help  you  set  it  out." 

"  'T won't  do  to  set  it  there,"  said  the  father. 
''  The  ground  is  so  wet  that  rose-bushes  won't 
grow  there.  I  have  tried  it  a  great  many 
times.  You  must  put  it  at  the  front  part  of 
the  house." 

16* 


186  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


"  Chloe  can  t  see  it  there,"  said  the  boy,  with 
quivering  lip.  "  I  want  it  where  she  can  see  it." 

"  Well,"  said  the  mother,  "  I  can  carry  the 
roses  to  her  when  they  come.  Won't  that 
do?" 

But  he  was  not  quite  satisfied  with  this 
disposal  of  his  rose-bush;  and  the  next 
day  he  was  there  again  with  a  lilac-tree, 
which  he  set  out  himself  before  Chloe 's 
window. 

"  How  nice  that  will  shade  my  window !" 
said  Chloe.  "  I  shall  think  a  great  deal  of  it. 
Come  in  here  now,  and  I  will  show  you  some- 
thing." 

He  went  in,  and  she  took  from  the  shelf  a 
box  and  raised  the  cover. 

"Oh!  what  a  nice  box!"  he  exclaimed. 
"  Did  you  make  it  ?" 

"Yes:  I  made  it." 

"  Did  you  make  all  these  things? — this  little 
sofa  and  chair  and  cup?" 

"Yes,"  replied  Chloe;  "and  I  never  saw  a 
sofa,  either." 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  187 


"Why,  it  looks  just  like  one!"  said  the  boy. 
"  How  did  you  make  it  ?  It  isn't  sewed?" 

"Yes,  I  made  it  all  with  my  needle." 

"  Why,  I  don't  see  any  stitches !" 

"  Look  sharp,"  said  Chloe,  smiling,  "  and  I 
guess  you  can  see  some." 

"Oh,  I  shouldn't  think  you  could!  I 
shouldn't  think  you  would  know  how!" 

"I  planned  it  all  out  in  the  night,"  said 
Chloe,  "when  I  could  not  sleep.  I  have  been 
more  than  a  year  making  the  box  and  all  the 
things  in  it. 

"Oh,  I  shouldn't  think  you  could!"  he  ex- 
claimed again;  and  he  went  away,  with  his 
little  head  full  of  wonder  and  admiration,  while 
Chloe's  thoughts  uprose  in  thankfulness  that 
God  had  put  it  in  the  hearts  of  little  children 
to  do  for  her  those  pleasant  acts  of  kindness 
that  helped  so  much  to  lighten  her  life  of  the 
cares  that  now  were  becoming  daily  more 
pressing.  The  parents  were  old  and  broken 
in  health,  and  little  by  little  the  family  cares 
were  being  transferred  from  them  to  their 


188  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


suffering  child.  It  brought  forth  all  her  Inge- 
nuity to  plan,  and  all  her  energy  to  obtain,  with 
their  limited  means,  things  necessary  for  family 
use.  She  worked  when  her  constant  suffering 
would  allow  her,  and  her  beautiful  work-boxes, 
needle-books  and  pincushions  met  with  a  ready 
sale.  Many,  moved  by  sympathy  and  affec- 
tion, gave  her  extra  prices ;  and  thus  for  the 
time  their  wants  were  supplied. 

But  the  winter  came  on  severely.  The 
father  was  still  unable  to  work;  and,  for  the 
first  time,  poverty  seemed  to  stare  them 
in  the  face.  One  afternoon,  Chloe  was  lying 
as  usual  upon  her  bed.  Her  anxiety  for  her 
parents  had  aggravated  her  disease,  and  she 
was  prostrated  with  more  than  her  usual 
suffering.  Her  faith  and  trust  were  dimmed 
for  the  moment,  and  she  saw  nothing  before 
her  but  darkness  and  sorrow.  Through  the 
little  bedroom-window  she  looked  out  upon 
the  dreary  expanse  of  snow,  and  watched  the 
evening  shadows  as  they  closed  thickly  around. 
Her  mother  came  in,  and  dropped  the  curtain, 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  189 


placed  a  lighted  candle  on  the  stand,  and  then 
seated  herself  wearily  in  the  rocking-chair. 
Her  father  soon  followed.  He  had  a  weekly 
paper  in  his  hand,  and,  drawing  his  chair  near 
the  light,  he  slowly  unfolded  it.  He  read  in 
silence  a  few  moments,  and  then  exclaimed, — 

"  Why,  here's  an  account  of  the  revival  over 
in  the  village !  Quite  a  long  piece  about  the 
meetings!" 

"  Why,  is  there  ?"  said  Chloe.  "  Do  read  it, 
father,  won't  you?" 

Just  then  they  heard  the  music  of  sleigh- 
bejls  coming  down  the  hill.  How  merry  and 
pleasant  it  sounded ! 

"Why,  they've  stopped  here!"  exclaimed 
the  mother,  hastily  rising. 

The  kitchen-door  opened,  and  she  went  for- 
ward to  greet  the  new-comers.  A  young  man, 
formerly  of  that  neighbourhood,  entered,  fol- 
lowed by  a  group  of  young  people. 

"  Good-evening,"  he  exclaimed :  "we've  come 
over  to  see  Chloe.  Can  we  go  right  in?" 
"How  do  you  do,  Chloe?"  said  he:  "I've 


190  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


brought  some  of  my  young  friends  over  to  see 
you.  We  gave  up  our  meeting  to-night  on 
'purpose  to  come." 

"We  are  almost  all  strangers,"  said  a  young 
girl,  stepping  to  the  bedside,  "but  we  thought 
it  wouldn't  make  any  difference.  We  have 
often  heard  about  you,  and  wanted  to  see  you." 

"Yes,  Chloe,"  rejoined  the  young  man:  "we 
have  all  found  Jesus  Christ  precious  to  our 
souls;  and  we  wanted  to  talk  with  you." 

"How  glad  I  am!"  said  Chloe,  as  soon  as 
she  could  speak.  "How  glad  I  am  to  see  you 
all !  I  have  heard  about  your  meetings ;  but  I 
didn't  expect  you  would  take  the  trouble  to 
come  and  see  me.  I  used  to  enjoy  going  to 
meeting,  but  now  I  am  deprived  of  that  privi- 
lege. Get  some  chairs,  won't  you,  and  sit 
down  where  I  can  see  you  all.  And  so  you 
are  all  young  converts  ?"  she  continued.  "  How 
happy  your  faces  look!  It  makes  me  think 
how  I  used  to  be  around  as  you  are.  I  didn't 
know,  then,  any  thing  about  trouble.  I  thought 
I  knew  what  'twas  to  be  a  Christian;  but  I 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  191 


never  did  know  until  I  was  laid  upon  tliis  bed. 
Jesus  Christ  was  never  so  precious  to  me  as 
then." 

"Are  you  always  so  cheerful?"  said  one, 
timidly.  "Don't  you  ever  feel  sad?" 

"Oh,  yes:  I  have  a  great  many  sad  hours. 
I  was  feeling  very  sad  just  before  you  carne; 
but  you  have  driven  it  all  away.  You  have 
made  me  so  happy  by  coming  to-night!" 

" Can't  you  sing  something?"  she  added.  "  I 
should  like  to  hear  you  very  much." 

"Let's  sing,"  said  one, — 

'"Come,  thou  Fount  of  every  blessing.'" 

They  sang;  and  the  old  hymn  went  up  from 
their  youthful  voices  with  no  common  ear- 
nestness. 

"We  will  try  to  pray,"  said  the  young  man 
who  had  entered  first.  They  all  kneeled  and 
bowed  their  heads.  It  was  a  young  convert's 
prayer, — simple  and  broken,  but  earnest  and 
touching.  The  father  and  mother  also  kneeled 
with  them ;  and  when  they  rose  from  their 


192  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


knees,  tears  dimmed  their  aged  eyes.  Cliloe's 
heart  was  full. 

"It's  so  pleasant,"  said  she,  "to  see  so  many 
young  people  beginning  the  Christian  life 
together!  You  don't  know  how  happy  you 
have  made  me,  and  how  much  good  you  have 
done  by  coming." 

"  You  have  done  us  more  good  than  we  have 
done  you,"  said  the  young  girl  who  had  spoken 
to  Chloe  first.  "I  never  shall  forget  this  visit. 
It  has  taught  me  never  to  be  ungrateful  again." 

"I've  been  thinking,"  said  another,  "of 
that  text  in  the  Book  of  the  Eevelation  where 
it  says,  'There'll  be  no  night  there!'  It's  been 
in  my  mind  all  the  time  I  was  sitting  here." 

"Let's  find  it,"  said  a  young  man  who  had 
not  before  spoken.  He  took  the  old  family 
Bible,  and,  turning  to  the  last  chapter  of  Eeve- 
lation, read  aloud : — 

"And  there  shall  be  no  night  there;  and 
they  need  no  candle,  neither  light  of  the  sun ; 
for  the  Lord  God  giveth  them  light,  and  they 
shall  reign  for  ever  and  ever." 


LIGHT    BEYOND    THE    CLOUDS.  193 


A  roll  of  bills  was  slipped  into  Cliloe's 
hand,  and  then  they  bade  her  a  reluctant 
" good-night,"  and  she  heard  them  singing  as 
they  went  up  the  hill.  Her  heart  was  light 
again,  and  she  fell  asleep  with  these  beautiful 
words  in  her  mind  : — "And  there  shall  be  no 
night  there;  and  they  need  no  candle,  neither 
light  of  the  sun;  for  the  Lord  God  giveth 
them  light,  and  they  shall  reign  for  ever  and 
ever." 


194  CHLOE  LANKTON;  on, 


XX. 

THE  MOTHER'S  ILLNESS. 

"I  THINK  I  had  better  not  go  out  to-day," 
said  Chloe's  father,  one  Sabbath  morning. 

"Oh,  yes,  I  think  you  can  go,"  replied  the 
mother.  "I  am  better  than  I  was  yesterday." 

"I'm  afraid  you  are  not  well  enough  to  stay 
aloue.  I  guess  I'd  better  not  go." 

So  saying,  he  took  down  the  Bible  and 
seated  himself  in  his  favourite  chair  to  read. 

"Why,  father,"  said  the  mother  again, 
"you  can  go  to  meeting.  I  think  I  shall  be 
well  as  usual  before  night." 

It  always  required  something  unusual  to 
keep  him  from  going  to  the  place  of  wor- 
ship; and  this  morning  the  air  was  mild  and 
pleasant,  the  roads  were  good  for  walking, 
and,  being  again  assured  by  his  wife,  he  made 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  195 


ready  and  started.  She  watched  him  from  the 
window  until  he  disappeared  over  the  hill,  and 
then,  with  more  than  her  usual  alacrity,  she 
went  around  to  do  the  necessary  morning 
housework.  As  soon  as  the  rooms  were  neatly 
swept,  she  took  the  Bible  which  he  had  laid 
down,  and  drew  the  arm-chair  he  had  vacated 
into  Chloe's  room.  She  talked  a  while  more 
cheerily  than  usual,  then,  opening  the  Bible, 
slowly  turned,  one  after  another,  its  old,  yellow- 
leaves.  Chloe  took  up  her  own  book  again  and 
commenced  reading.  She  was  startled  at  length 
by  the  heavy  sound  of  the  Bible  falling  upon 
the  floor ;  and,  looking  up,  she  saw  her  mother 
sitting  with  her  eyes  wearily  closed  and  her 
head  drooping  heavily  on  one  side. 

"Mother!"  said  she,  "mother!  what  is  the 
matter?" 

She  opened  her  eyes  and  said, — 

"I  believe  I  am  very  sick.  I  wish  your 
father  would  come." 

"Draw  your  chair  close  to  my  bed,  mother," 
said  Chloe. 


106  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OK, 


She  succeeded  in  doing  so;  and  then  her 
head  drooped  heavily  again  and  her  eyes 
closed. 

"Mother!  mother!"  said  Chloe,  again  trying 
to  rouse  her. 

She  opened  her  eyes,  and  said,  in  a  faint 
whisper, — 

"Why  don't  ycur  father  come?"  and  re- 
lapsed again  into  an  unconscious  state. 

Chloe  did  not  know  what  to  do.  By  bend- 
ing forward,  she  could  see  the  face  of  the  long 
clock  in  the  kitchen.  It  was  only  a  few 
minutes  past  one.  Her  father  would  not  come 
until  four  o'clock.  Her  mother,  she  knew, 
was  very,  very  ill.  Every  moment  she  was 
growing  more  and  more  unconscious.  She 
feared  she  would  fall  from  her  chair;  she 
might  die,  even !  "What  should  she  do  ?  What 
could  sho  do-?  In  her  desperation,  she  opened 
the  dooi  of  the  little  cupboard  at  the  head 
of  her  bed.  Espying  a  bottle  of  camphor 
there,  she  .  hastily  mixed  a  few  drops  with 
some  water,  and  succeeded  in  arousing  her 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  197 


mother  sufficiently  to  swallow  it.  This  revived 
her  for  the  moment,  and  Chloe  said, — 

"  You  had  better  try  to  get  to  the  bed,  mo- 
ther, and  lie  down." 

After  trying  several  times,  she  arose  from 
her  chair,  and,  by  clinging  to  the  stand,  and 
then  to  the  side  of  the  door,  she  finally  reached 
her  own  bed  and  fell  upon  it  with  a  deep 
groan. 

"Mother,"  said  Chloe,  "are  you  safe  on  the 
bed?" 

She  only  heard  a  faint  sound  in  reply. 

"Mother,"  she  said  again,  "mother,  are 
you  there?" 

There  was  no  answer. 

"Mother,  mother,"  she  cried:  "can't  you 
speak  to  me?" 

She  listened,  but  heard  no  sound  in  reply 
save  the  slow  ticking  of  the  old  clock  and  the 
excited  throbbing  of  her  own  heart. 

"She  may  be  dead,"  thought  she.  "Oh, 
what  can  I  do?  0  God,"  she  prayed,  "help 

17* 


198  CHLOE  LANKTON;  on, 


me!  oh,  help  me!  Mother,  mother,"  she 
shrieked,  "do,  oh,  do  speak  to  me!" 

Still  no  reply.  All  was  still,  silent  and 
solemn  as  the  grave.  Chloe  leaned  forward 
to  look  at  the  clock.  'Twas  just  two.  Two 
more  hours  must  pass  away  before  her  father 
would  come.  "What  could  she  do?" 

As  the  dreary  moments  crawled  along,  a 
strange  fear  began  to  creep  over  her.  She 
dared  not  break  the  silence  by  calling  her 
mother's  name  again.  She  dreaded  even  the 
sound  of  her  own  voice  upon  that  fearful  still- 
ness. A  passing  cloud  obscured  the  sun,  and 
Chloe's  room  grew  dark  with  the  shadow  it 
cast.  The  little  bedroom  seemed  like  a 
sepulchre,  and,  cold  and  shuddering,  she 
buried  her  face  in  her  hands.  She  could  do 
nothing  then  but  pray.  That  was  what  she 
always  did,  whatever  her  trouble  might  be; 
for  Chloe's  reliance  upon  God  was  childlike 
and  beautiful  in  its  simplicity  and  perfectness. 
During  the  years  of  her  suffering,  she  had 
attained  to  a  rare  spiritual  growth.  God  was 


LIGHT   BEYOND    THE   CLOUDS.  199 


near  to  her,  and  in  his  nearness  was  a  loving 
Father.  As  the  child,  with  quivering  lip, 
carries  to  the  parent  all  his  little  troubles,  so, 
trustingly,  did  Chloe  in  her  pure-heartedness 
go  to  God  for  comfort  and  support.  So,  with 
hands  pressing  tightly  upon  closed  eyelids, 
she  silently  and  trustingly  prayed. 

As  the  clock  neared  the  hour  of  four,  Chloe 
caught  the  sound  of  her  father's  well-known 
step  on  the  threshold.  He  entered  the  room, 
and  she  heard  him  approach  the  bed  where 
her  mother  was  lying.  Chloe  scarcely  breathed. 
"Would  he  find  her  dead?  or  was  she  living? 
He  called  his  wife's  name;  and  Chloe's  heart 
stood  still  to  listen!  There  was  a  slight 
rustling  and  a  faint  attempt  to  speak.  She 
was  not  dead,  then ;  she  still  breathed !  How 
the  tears,  in  a  torrent  of  relief,  rushed  to 
Chloe's  eyes !  But  she  kept  them  back ;  for 
her  father  came  into  her  room,  saying, — 

"How  long  has  your  mother  been  so, 
Chloe?" 

"Ever  since  noon." 


200  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 

"Well,"  lie  replied,  with  a  sigh,  "I  uhall 
have  to  leave  you  alone  again;  for  I  musi  get 
some  one  to  go  for  the  doctor,  and  see  if  1 
can  find  anybody  to  come  and  help  us." 

He  went  out;  and  then  Chloe's  feelings 
overcame  her.  She  wept,  sobbed  and  prayed 
by  turns;  but  it  was  all  in  thankfulness  and 
gratitude  that  her  mother  was  still  spared. 

When  her  father  returned,  one  of  the  neigh- 
bouring women  was  with  him.  The  doctor 
came,  and  every  means  were  used  for  the  suf- 
ferer's relief.  At  length  she  opened  her  eyes 
and  was  able  to  speak. 

"Mother,"  said  Chloe,  "won't  you  speak  to 
me?" 

"My  poor  child!"  said  she,  faintly. 

Soon  she  opened  her  eyes  again,  and  said, 
"Father! — where  is  he?" 

"Here,  sitting  right  by  you." 

"I  may  not  live,"  she  said;  "and  what  will 
Chloe  do?  The  poor  child  can  never  walk 
again;  and.  who'll  take  care  of  her?" 

Days  and  weeks  passed  away.     They  we.pe 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  201 


days  and  weeks  of  sorrow ;  for  a  mother  was 
hovering  between  life  and  death.  It  was  a 
mother  in  whom  was  centred  all  the  earthly 
love  of  a  husband  and  child.  Would  God  be 
pitiful?  Would  the  arm  of  the  Angel  of 
Death  be  stayed? 

Days  came  and  went,  and  then  the  dark 
cloud  was  slowly  lifted  away.  One  day  the 
mother  was  taken  up  and  placed  in  her 
straight-backed  rocking-chair,  and  the  father 
drew  her  into  Chloe's  room.  They  were  very 
glad  to  see  each  other  again, — so  glad  that  each 
could  say  but  little.  The  mother  had  been 
near  the  open  gate  of  death,  and  its  shadow 
seemed  upon  her  yet. 

"  Every  thing  seems  strange,"  she  said.  "  It 
really  seems  strange  to  think  I  am  going  to 
live.  I  wanted  to  get  well,  to  be  a  comfort  to 
you  and  father.  That  was  all  I  thought  of." 

"I  prayed,"  said  Chloe,  "that  I  might  give 
you  up  willingly ;  but  I  couldn't  feel  resigned. 
I  thought  you  wasn't  to  die  yet,  or  God  would 
have  given  me  more  strength  to  bear  it." 


202  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OK, 


XXI. 

MARY'S  DUCKS. 

IT  was  a  warm  day  in  summer.  The  win- 
dow in  Chloe's  room  was  open,  and  all  day 
long  birds  had  sung,  bees  had  hummed,  insects 
had  chirped  and  wind- waved  trees  had  sighed 
and  whispered.  It  was  now  four  o'clock,  and 
the  public  school  was  just  out.  How  loudly 
the  boys  shouted  and  how  merrily  the  girls 
laughed  and  talked !  Chloe  could  hear  it  all 
through  the  open  window  of  her  tiny  bedroom. 
The  little  girls  whose  way  led  them  by 
"Chloe's"  always  called  when  they  went  home 
at  night.  So  she  listened  for  them,  as  she 
always  did,  and  soon  heard  their  voices  as  they 
came  up  the  hill.  They  opened  the  gate  and 
came  in;  but  Chloe  saw  that  Mary  was  not 
with  them. 

"Why,  where's  Mary?"  she  asked. 


LIGHT    BEYOND    THE    CLOUDS.  203 


"She's  gone  home,"  was  the  reply. 

"Gone  home  without  coming  in  to  see  me? 
What  does  that  mean?" 

"Oh,  she  wanted  to  go,"  said  little  Kate, 
roguishly. 

"Ah,  you  little  witches,"  said  Chloe,  as  she 
saw  them  exchanging  roguish  smiles  and 
glances,  "you've  got  something  afloat!  Tell 
me  what  it  is."  But  they  only  laughed  and 
said  nothing.  Soon  Chloe  heard  some  little  feet 
tripping  across  the  kitchen,  and  a  blue-eyed, 
golden-haired  little  girl  peeped  in  at  the  door. 

"Is  that  you,  Mary?"  said  Chloe.  "Come 
in  here."  She  came  in  with  a  large  basket  in 
her  hand,  which  she  was  trying  to  cover  with 
her  apron. 

"What  have  you  thcro '.'"'  asked  Chloe. 
"Let  me  see." 

Mary  approached,  uncovered  the  basket, 
and  Chloe  looked  in  and  saw  four  little  young 
ducks  cuddled  together  in  the  bottom  of  the 
basket. 

"Oh!  oh!"  she  exclaimed:  "what  nice  little 


204  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OE, 


ducks  !"     Then  the  little  girls  all  clapped  their 
hands  and  laughed  merrily. 

"We  wanted  to  sprise  you,"  said  one. 

"  We  didn't  want  you  to  know  that  Mary 
was  going  to  bring  'em."  . 

"  Yes,"  said  little  Kate :  "  I  tried  just  as  hard 
to  keep  in  and  not  tell." 

"They're  my  ducks,"  cried  Mary.  "You 
ought  to  see  them  swim !  They'll  sail  all 
around  so  beautifully !  Oh,  I  wish  you  could 
see  'em  swim!" 

"I  wish  I  could,"  said  Chloe.  "Wouldn't 
they  swim  in  a  pan  of  water  ?" 

"  I  guess  they  would." 

"  You  may  go  and  ask  mother  to  give  you  a 
pan  with  some  water  in  it,  and  we'll  see  if  we 
can't  make  them  sail." 

This  was  enough.  The  little  feet  flew,  in  a 
twinkling,  to  make  the  request.  A  pan  filled 
with  water  was  placed  upon  the  stand  by 
Chloe's  bed,  and  Mary  took  up  the  precious 
ducks  and  put  them  carefully  on  the  top  of 
the  water.  The  little  creatures  knew  their 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  205 


element  at  once.  They  shook  their  wings, 
"ducked"  their  heads  and  sailed  around,  to  the 
great  delight  of  Chloe  and  the  children. 

"A'n't  you  glad,"  said  one,  "that  Mary 
brought  these  in  for  you  to  see?" 

"Yes,"  replied  Chloe,  "I'm  very  glad.  I 
like  to  see  little  ducks." 

"There,  little  duckies !"  said  Mary,  at 
length:  "you  must  go  home  now !" 

So  saying,  she  put  them  back  in  the  bottom 
of  the  basket  and  covered  the  basket  with  her 
apron.  Then  the  little  girls  bade  Chloe  good- 
night, and  all  went  home.  They  had  not  been 
gone  long  before  the  teacher  came  in,  to  whom 
Chloe  related  the  pleasing  incident  that  had 
just  happened. 

"  'Twould  seem  incredible,  wouldn't,  it?"  re- 
plied the  teacher,  "to  one  who  didn't  know 
you,  that  little  children  could  take  so  much 
interest  in  an  invalid.  I  was  thinking  about 
you,"  she  continued,  "while  I  was  walking  up 
the  hill.  Before  I  came  over  here  to  teach,  I 
had  heard  about  you  being  confined  to  your 

18 


206  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 

bed  so  many  years  and  suffering  so  much,  and 
somebody  told  me  that  you  lived  near  the 
school-house.  I  thought  you  would  be  gloomy 
and  low-spirited  an<f  would  be  no  society  for 
me.  I  thought  I  shouldn't  come  in  more  than 
three  times  all  summer,  and  then  I  should  put 
on  a  long  face  and  just  step  in  and  look  at 
you.  But  here  I  find  myself  three  times  a  day, 
instead  of  three  times  all  summer." 

"I  like  to  have  the  teachers  come  in,"  re- 
plied Chloe.  "It  is  always  a  sad  day  to  me 
when  the  school  closes.  I  become  so  attached 
to  one  teacher,  and  I  don't  know  who  the  next 
will  be." 

"I  think  sometimes  that  it  is  providential 
that  I  was  called  to  take  this  school  near  you." 

"I  think  every  thing  is  providential,"  said 
Chloe.  "  But  what  makes  it  seem  so  to  you?" 

"  Because  you  are  doing  me  so  much  good." 

"  I  do  you  good  ?  Why,  it  doesn't  seem  as 
if  I  could  do  anybody  any  good." 

"Well,  you  have.  You've  given  me  ideas 
of  life  diffeient  from  what  I  ^ver  had  before." 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  207 


"Why,"  said  Chloe,  in  surprise,  "I'm  sure 
I've  never  said  much  to  you." 

"It  isn't  what  you  say,  so  much.  It's  the 
way  you  live.  I  feel  myself  rebuked  every 
time  I  see  you." 

"It's  been  a  trial  to  me,"  said  Chloe,  "be- 
cause I  could  not  be  around  in  the  world  and 
could  never  be  the  means  of  doing  any  good.  I 
used  to  have  great  ideas  about  that." 

"Why,  Chloe,"  said  the  teacher,  earnestly, 
"I  do  believe  you  do  more  good  lying  here 
than  you  ever  would  if  you  had  been  '  around 
in  the  world/  as  you  say.  When  I  get  so 
restless  and  discontented  as  I  am  sometimes, 
I  think  of  you  with  all  your  troubles  and  all 
your  sufferings,  yet  every  day  so  calm  and 
patient  and  trustful.  Were  you  always  so, 
Chloe?" 

"Oh,  I  used  to  have  a  great  many  sad  days. 
Sometimes,  when  I  thought  much,  I'd  be  so 
)erplexed !  I'd  think  how  pleasant  it  would 
oe  to  get  up  in  the  morning  and  go  out  and 
walk  on  the  green  grass  and  see  the  flowers; 


208  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


and  then  I'd  think  what  I  might  have  been, 
perhaps,  if  I'd  had  my  health;  and  such  a  feel- 
ing would  come  over  me !  I  could  not  help 
asking  myself,  '  Is  it  right ?  Is  it  right?'  But 
now  I  know  it  is  all  right.  I  was  naturally 
light  and  gay;  and  if  I  had  been  around  as 
others  are,  I  should  have  been  apt  to  be  led 
away  into  every  temptation.  God  knew  it 
would  be  so:  so  he  put  me  here  to  save  me." 

"I  shall  need  a  great  deal  to  save  me,"  said 
the  teacher,  with  tearful  eyes.  "Oh,  Chloe, 
what  will  it  be?  What  will  it  be  ?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Chloe.  "  I  hope  you'll 
be  spared  any  great  trial." 

"I  have  heard  people  pray,"  replied  the 
teacher,  "for  God  to  'make  them  what  he 
would  have  them  to  be.'  Now,  I  never  could 
pray  like  that,  for  I  know  he  would  send 
troubles  to  make  me  so ;  and  I  dare  not  ask  it. 
What  can  I  do,  Chloe?" 

"  You  can't  do  any  thing  but  pray  and  trust, 
and,  if  trials  come,  make  the  best  of  them. 
By-and-by,  you  know,  the  veil  will  be  taken 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  209 


away;  and  tnen  we  shall  see  clearly.  We  shall 
look  away  back  and  see  why  these  things  are 
so.  We  shall  know  why  all  is  for  the  best. 
Oh,  that  hope  is  worth  every  thing!" 

"You  talk  so  comforting,  Chloe,"  said  the 
teacher.  "I've  been  wretched  all  day,  and  I 
felt  as  if  I  wanted  to  talk  with  you;  and  you 
have  done  me  so  much  good!" 

"You've  done  me  good  too,"  said  Chloe. 

With  tearful  eyes,  the  teacher  rose  to  go. 
She  went  out  into  the  summer  sunshine  with  her 
heart  more  in  harmony  with  nature's  beauty. 
There  was  a  firm  purpose  in  her  soul  that  she 
would  henceforth  strive  to  live  for  the  right. 
She  would  work  with  all  her  strength  and 
earnestness,  and  would  trust  the  rest  with  her 
Maker.  Chloe,  left  behind  with  her  weight 
of  pain  and  suffering,  looked  out  upon  the 
green  meadow  and  felt  her  heart  lifted  up 
with  renewed  courage.  She  would  wait,  pray 
and  trust,  and  she  too,  with  all  perfectness  of 

faith,  could  leave  the  end  with  God. 
0  is* 


210  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


XXII. 

GOLDEN  WEDDING,  AND   CHLOE's   REMOVAL. 

TIME  rolled  on,  as  it  ever  rolls,  ceaseless 
and  fleeting.  Days  glided  into  weeks,  weeks 
passed  into  months,  the  months  were  counted 
by  years,  and  the  parents  still  lived.  They 
were  now  seventy-one  years  of  age.  It  was 
the  year  18 — ,  and  the  eleventh  day  of  January 
would  be  their  "golden  wedding," — the  fiftieth 
anniversary  of  their  marriage-day.  Mr.  Yale 
appointed  a  meeting  at  their  own  house  upon 
the  occasion,  and  many  of  their  friends  ga- 
thered together,  while  he  discoursed  to  them 
of  the  uncertainty  and  uufathomableness  of 
the  present  life  and  the  light  and  beauty  of 
the  heavenly,  life  to  which  the  two,  hand  in 
band,  were  hastening.  He  offered  thanks  to 
&od  for  his  kindness  and  mercy  in  sparing 
them  each  to  the  other  so  long  a  time,  and 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  211 


asked  that  all  down  the  steps  of  their  declining 
years  their  aged  heads  might  still  be  crowned 
with  his  unspeakable  love  and  goodness. 

To  Chloe  it  was  a  joyful  day.  The  sound 
of  prayer  and  praise  in  their  humble  home 
was  sweet  to  hear,  and  her  heart  overflowed 
with  gratitude  for  her  numberless  blessings, — 
her  quiet  home,  her  loving  parents,  their  much- 
ioved  minister  and  their  many  kind  and  plea- 
sant friends.  To  them  truly  it  was  a  "golden 
wedding"  and  a  day  long  to  be  remembered. 

Still  the  years  rolled  on  and  on,  each  one 
bringing  to  Chloe  its  additional  burden.  Her 
constant  suffering  was  more  excruciating,  her 
hourly  pain  more  intense.  In  addition  to  this, 
the  family  care  rested  upon  her.  Her  parents 
leaned  upon  her  as  their  only  earthly  prop. 
Her  arm  must  support  them.  To  her  it  was 
given  to  strew  with  roses  and  lilies  their  down- 
ward path  to  the  grave.  But  every  duty  laid 
upon  her  only  served  to  bring  out  more 
strongly  her  native  character.  Her  natural 
buoyancy  combined  with  her  simple  pure- 


212  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR. 


heartedness,  her  forethought  and  efficiency, 
her  firm  sense  of  duty,  strong  affection  and 
unwavering  trust,  all  helped  to  form  a  nature 
upon  which  the  old  as  well  as  the  young  loved 
to  rest. 

One  evening,  in  the  spring-time,  they  were 
sitting,  as  usual,  in  Chloe's  room.  The  father 
was  reading  by  the  candle  on  the  stand,  the 
mother  with  her  knitting-work  sat  back  in 
the  rocking-chair,  and  Chloe,  upon  her  bed, 
was  making  a  bright-coloured  needle-book  of 
her  own  exquisite  designing. 

"  The  room  is  cold,"  said  the  mother,  slightly 
shivering. 

"It's  cold,"  said  Chloe,  "because  there  are 
so  many  cracks  in  it.  If  there  is  any  wind,  it 
all  comes  in.  I  do  wish  we  could  have  it  re- 
paired! Father,"  she  continued,  "don't  you 
remember  when  you  built  this  little  bed- 
room, how  I  played  around  on  the  boards  ?  I 
didn't  know  then  how  much  I  was  going  to 
suffer  in  it.  Now  it's  all  coming  to  pieces." 

"Yes,"  said  the  father,  looking  up  on  the 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  213 


darkened  beams:  "the  old  house  fails  as  well 
as  we. 

"How  much  would  it  cost  to  have  it  fixed, 
lather?"  asked  Chloe. 

"  'Twould  be  a  number  of  dollars,"  replied 
he.  "I  can't  tell  exactly." 

Chloe  sighed.  She  knew  she  could  not  pay 
for  it.  The  mother  sighed  too,  and  said, — 

"  I  wish  we  could  have  it  done ;  but  I  don't 
see  how  we  can." 

"Perhaps  there'll  be  a  way  provided,"  said 
Chloe.  "I've  noticed  that,  when  I  want  a 
thing  very  much,  it  almost  always  comes  in 
some  way." 

The  next  day  Chloe  was  surprised  by  a  visit 
fi'om  a  young  man  who  had  formerly  taught 
the  winter  school.  As  he  was  leaving,  he  put 
into  her  hand  a  small  package,  saying,  "  Here, 
Chloe:  I've  been  getting. up  a  little  subscrip- 
tion among  my  friends  for  you.  It's  only  a 
trifle,  but  it  may  do  you  a  little  good." 

Chloe  unrolled  the  package  and  counted  the 
bills  it  contained,  to  the  amount  of  nine  dollars. 


214  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OK, 

How  providential!  'Twas  just  what  she 
wanted.  God  put  it  in  his  heart,  she  was 
sure.  She  called  her  father  and  mother  in  and 
said,  "See!  see!  it's  all  right  about  my  room. 
I  was  sure  it  would  come ;  and  it  has,  when  I 
didn't  expect  it,  either." 

That  evening,  when  the  work  was  done, 
they  talked  the  matter  over  again.  They 
could  have  the  room  repaired  now,  and  Chloe 
wished  that  it  could  be  made  larger.  It  would 
be  more  pleasant  and  convenient  when  she 
had  so  much  company.  But,  in  that  case,  she 
must  be  moved  out, — which  would  be  attended 
with  much  difficulty  and  would  greatly  in- 
crease her  suffering.  Still,  she  really  needed 
more  room.  Her  mother  was  growing  old 
and  forgetful;  and,  with  her  usual  forethought, 
she  considered  that  it  might  become  very  ne- 
cessary that  the  articles  indispensable  for  her 
own  comfort  and  use  should  be  under  her  own 
supervision.  Her  disease  increased  with  the 
years,  and,  as  time  passed  away,  a  removal 
would  be  more  difficult  than  at  present.  So, 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  215 


after  days  of  prayerful  deliberation,  she  de- 
cided that  it  should  be  done.  A  carpenter  was 
engaged  to  do  the  work,  and  the  room  where 
Nancy  and  Kena  died  was  to  be  made  ready 
for  Chloe.  It  seemed  a  long  journey  to  her. 
It  was  her  constant  thought  for  days.  It 
would  be  a  great  change.  What  would  it 
bring  to  her,  and  what  would  it  take  away? 
She  could  not  help  feeling  sad  at  the  thought 
of  leaving  her  little  room  for  a  short  time 
even. 

The  day  came  when  she  was  to  be  taken 
out.  She  was  moved  from  her  bed  to  a  lounge 
placed  by  the  side  of  it,  and  then  two  men 
lifted  it  carefully  from  the  floor.  How  strangely 
the  kitchen  looked  as  she  passed  through !  Her 
father's  work-bench  was  in  its  accustomed 
corner,  and  through  the  window  she  caught  a 
glimpse  of  the  freshly-leaved  trees  in  the  yard. 
They  carried  her  through  the  door  into  the 
room  where  her  sisters  died,  and  placed  her 
upon  the  bed  where  she  had  seen  them  breatlie 
their  last.  She  was  in  an  agony  of  distress. 


216  CHLOE'LANKTON;  OR, 

She  could  hardly  help  screaming  with  anguish. 
So  much  was  her  suffering  increased,  that 
several  days  passed  before  she  cared  to  look 
around  upon  the  old  room.  Then  how  familial 
and  how  strange  every  thing  seemed !  There 
was  the  fireplace,  and  the  little  cupboard,  with 
its  narrow  door,  in  the  corner  by  the  chimney- 
side.  The  dark  seams  in  the  whitewashed 
ceiling :  how  well  she  remembered  every  bend 
and  curve  they  made  !  The  bed  stood  near  a 
window,  from  which,  for  the  first  time  in 
thirteen  years,  Chloe  looked  out  upon  the 
street.  The  horses  and  wagons,  and  the  oxen 
with  their  loaded  teams,  as  they  passed,  looked 
very  strange  to  her  unaccustomed  eyes.  It 
was  a  great  change  to  her.  It  was  a  breaking 
off  from  her  monotonous  every-day  living. 
All  the  past  came  crowding  vividly  before  her, 
and  she  hardly  recognised  herself  as  the  suf- 
fering invalid  of  so  many  years.  She  had 
almost  laid  aside  the  burdens  of  her  old  life  to 
live  again  in  the  brightness  of  her  childhood 
and  in  the  joyousness  and  dreamy  aspira- 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  217 


tions  of  youth.  The  days  passed,  long  and 
sunny,  and  Chloe  watched  the  growth  of  the 
grass  in  the  door-yard  and  saw  the  little  birds 
build  their  nests  in  the  trees.  The  wild  flowers 
were  gone,  and  now,  in  their  stead,  the  chil- 
dren brought  in  half-opened  rosebuds.  Still 
went  the  beautiful  days  of  early  summer. 
The  roses  were  in  full  bloom,  and  the  birds  were 
sitting  quietly  upon  finished  nests.  In  the 
mean  time  the  work  had  been  going  on  in  the 
little  bedroom.  It  was  completed,  and  Chloe 
was  to  be  moved  back. 

When  the  day  came,  her  favourite  little 
girls  were  there  to  carry  back  her  boxes  and 
place  them  on  the  shelves  and  to  arrange  her 
things  anew  in  the  cupboard.  Then  she  was 
laid  again  upon  the  lounge,  took  the  last  look 
of  the  old  room,  and  in  severe  suffering  was 
placed  once  more  upon  her  own  bed.  But 
what  a  change !  How  new,  strange  and  plea- 
sant looked  her  little  room !  It  was  so  much 
larger,  and  new  windows  had  been  made  in  it. 
and  a  new  cupboard.  A  chest  of  drawers  had 

19 


218  CHLOE  LANZTON;  OR, 

been  inserted  in  the  wall;  and,  what  was  best 
of  all,  there  was  a  little  square  window  back 
of  her  bed,  which  made  the  room  look  still 
more  light  and  cheerful. 

"I  am  glad  to  get  home  again!"  said  Chloe. 
"My  dear  little  cupboard!"  she  added,  opening 
it.  "  Here  are  all  my  things  again,  fixed  so 
nice!  How  I  have  missed  it!" 

"I  have  missed  it  too,"  said  the  mother. 
"I  didn't  realize  before  how  many  steps  it 
saved  me  to  have  so  many  things  around  your 
bed,  where  you  can  get  them.  I  could  not  get 
along  without  help  if  you  had  not  the  cupboard 
and.  things  convenient  to  wait  upon  yourself." 

"This  stick  that  father  made  for  me  to  open 
and  shut  my  door  with  saves  you  work  too," 
added  Chloe. 

"Yes,"  replied  the  mother:  "we  could  not 
get  along  without  that,  either." 

Chloe's  suffering  was  greatly  increased  by 
her  removal;  but  her  heart  had  been  made 
younger  by  it.  The  change,  while  it  had  taken 
nothing  away  from  the  depth  of  her  spiritual 


LIGHT    BEYOND    THE    CLOUDS.  219 


life,  had  added  to  it  beauty  and  freshness.  It 
was  true  that  she  had  suffered  more  than  her 
usual  amount  of  pain  and  sorrow  during  the 
time  that  had  passed ;  but  olden  memories  and 
associations  were  made  fresher,  and,  in  the 
midst  of  her  pain,  the  remembrance  of  her 
stay  in  the  old  room  was  pleasant. 

As  time  passed,  they  gradually  fell  back  into 
the  accustomed  ways.  Sickness,  and  poverty 
with  its  bitterness  of  trial,  came  upon  them; 
but  through  it  all  Chloe  lovingly  stayed  up 
the  aged  hands  of  her  parents  with  the  strong 
arms  of  her  faith.  Her  only  thought  now  was 
for  her  father  and  mother,  her  only  prayer 
for  life,  that  she  might  live  to  care  for  them. 
So,  loving  and  patient,  earnest  and  trustful, 
looking  forward  to  the  blessed  rest,  Chloe 
worked,  prayed  and  trusted. 


220  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


XXIII. 

PKOVIDENCES. 

IT  was  twilight  of  the  New  Year's  day, — the 
first  day  of  the  year  18 — .  The  parents  had 
just  arisen  from  the  supper-table,  when  the 
father  heard  a  knock  at  the  door  and  moved 
forward  to  answer  it. 

"What's  come?"  said  the  mother,  as  she 
saw  him  trying  to  lift  something  heavy  that 
was  standing  without. 

"Something  for  Chloe,"  was  the  reply. 
"It's  a  new  stove!" 

"Why,"  said  the  mother,  "Cousin  Thomas 
must  have  sent  it,  then.  He  said  when  he  was 
here  that  she  ought  to  have  a  new  one,  and 
that  perhaps  some  of  the  Hartford  folks  would 
help  about  it ;  but  Chloe  didn't  expect  it.  How 
glad  she  will  be !  Every  cold  day  this  winter 
she  has  had  to  lie  there  shivering." 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  221 


"Here's  a  great  bag  full  of  something,"  con- 
tinued the  father.  "I  don't  know  what." 

"Take  them  right  into  Chloe's  room,"  said 
the  mother,  "and  then  we'll  see." 

The  stove  was  lifted  in  for  Chloe's  inspec- 
tion; then  the  laden  bag  was  placed  close 
beside  her  bed.  The  father  opened  it  and  drew 
out  the  bundles,  one  after  another.  Sugar, 
tea,  crackers,  rice;  and  then  came  a  large, 
nice  New  Testament  for  Chloe,  from  a  lady 
whom  she  never  saw.  Still  other  bundles: 
and  at  last,  underneath  all  the  rest,  a  gift 
from  Uncle  Arba.  It  was  a  large  package, 
containing  calico  dresses  for  Chloe  and  her 
mother,  and  one  of  Uncle  Arba's  long,  kind 
letters  inside,  with  the  names  of  the  persons 
from  whom  the  presents  came,  and  many 
wishes  of  a  "Happy  New  Year"  from  their 
stranger  friends. 

"It  is  a  'Happy  New  Year/  isn't  it, 
mother?"  said  Chloe,  with  tear-filled  eyes. 

The  next  morning  the  children  came  in  to 
see  Chloe,  as  they  always  did  on  their  way  to 

19* 


CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


school.  They  were  delighted  with  the  new 
stove. 

"I  say,  boys,"  said  one,  "can't  we  put  it 
up  for  her?" 

"Yes,"  said  another.  "Let's  not  go  to 
school  until  we've  made  a  fire  in  Chloe's  new 
stove!" 

"Agreed!"  said  they;  and  all  went  to  work. 
The  old  broken  stove  was  taken  away,  the  new 
one,  with  its  nice  pipe,  put  up  in  its  place,  and 
at  just  ten  o'clock  a  bright  fire  was  burning 
in  it. 

"Now,  boys,"  said  one,  "we  must  go,  and 
take  what  the  master  gives." 

The  teacher  did  look  displeased  as  they  en- 
tered the  school-room,  and  inquired,  in  a  stern 
voice,  "why  they  were  all  so  late." 

"We  stayed  to  fix  up  Chloe's  new  stove  for 
her,"  was  the  reply. 

"Ah!  well,"  said  the  teacher,  (and  his  face 
relaxed  into  a  smile,)  "good  deeds  for  Chloe 
are  better  even  than  lessons." 

Not  long  after  that,  a  young  man  formerly 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  223 


irom  that  neighbourhood,  but  now  residing  in 
another  town,  came  to  see  Chloe.  After  a 
"long,  earnest  talk,  he  arose  to  go.  Said  he,  "  I 
have  had  a  good  visit,  Chloe.  I  always  do. 
You  know  how  many  times  I  have  been  here 
before  and  have  never  given  you  any  thing; 
but  now  I  am  going  to  give  you  something. 
I  have  been  thinking,  since  I  sat  here,  how 
pleasant  it  would  be  for  you  to  have  a  clock 
in  your  room,  where  you  can  see  the  time  of 
day.  I  have  four  clocks  that  I  took  in  trade : 
I  shall  sell  three  and  keep  the  other  for  you. 
You  may  tell  your  father  to  get  a  shelf  ready 
for  it ;  for  I  shall  bring  it  in  the  course  of  two 
or  three  weeks." 

Chloe  was  overjoyed;  but  in  a  moment  more 
she  was  almost  overawed,  for  never  before,  she 
thought,  had  she  seen  in  the  little  things  of 
every-day  life  the  hand  of  God  more  plainly. 
A  clock  in  her  room  was  what  she  long  had 
wished  for.  Especially  had  she  longed  for  it 
during  her  long  and  sleepless  nights;  but  it 
was  a  superfluous  luxury,  that  she  had  no  right 


224  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


to  tnmk  of,  and  she  put  away  the  thought 
without  even  mentioning  it  to  her  mother. 
But  here  it  had  come, — the  very  thing  she  most 
wished,  and  in  a  way  she  least  expected.  It 
was  sent  from  God,  she  was  sure. 

Her  father  made  ready  the  shelf;  and  in 
about  two  weeks  came  the  clock,  long  to  be  to 
Chloe  a  faithful  friend  and  the  cheerful  com- 
panion of  many  a  wearisome  and  suffering 
night. 

The  next  morning,  when  the  school-children 
came,  they  were  both  surprised  and  delighted 
at  Chloe's  treasure. 

"We  won't  go,"  said  one,  " until  we  have 
heard  it  strike." 

In  a  few  moments  the  new  clock  pealed  forth 
the  hour  of  nine. 

"Oh!  oh!"  cried  one:  "isn't  it  real  music?" 

"Yes,"  replied  a  dark-eyed  little  girl, — "if 
it  did  not  strike  nine  and  tell  us  that  it's 
school-time." 

"Don't  you  like  to  go  to  school?"  asked 
Chloe. 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  225 


"Yes/'  was  the  reply;  "but  I  like  to  stay 
here  better." 

Chloe  could  hear  their  joyous  feet  and  ring- 
ing voices  as  they  went  down  the  hill  towards 
the  school-house. 

"Dear  children!"  she  thought :" may  God 
spare  them  trials  l?ke  mine!" 


226  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OK, 


XXIV. 

AFFLICTIONS. 

MORE  troubles  were  in  store  for  the  parents. 
Chloe  was  again  brought  very  near  the  steep 
edges  of  the  grave.  Said  the  doctor  to  her, 
"  I  have  known  for  weeks  that  you  would  have 
this  trouble  to  pass  through.  I  wish  I  could 
relieve  you;  but  I  can  do  nothing  but  pray 
for  you.  That  is  all  I  can  do,  Chloe." 

When  her  condition  was  made  known,  people 
came  to  her  from  all  parts  of  the  town;  for 
Chloe  had  many  friends.  There  were  some 
to  whom  she  had  given  love  and  sympathy  ic 
times  of  affliction  and  trial;  and  to  those  her 
death  would  be  a  sad  loss.  There  were  others 
whose  friendship  had  been  won  by  the  beauty 
and  harmony  of  her  daily  life ;  and  such  would 
grieve  that  one  like  her  must  pass  away. 
Many,  too,  there  were  whose  hearts  were 


LIGHT    BEYOND    THE    CLOUDS. 


bound  to  her's  by  a  stronger  bond,  a  holier 
tie, — the  tie  of  Christian  union,  the  bond  of 
mutual  love  towards  our  Saviour — the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ.  Many  regretful  tears  were  shed 
there  in  her  little  room.  Many  fervent  prayers 
were  offered,  and  many  a  sad  farewell  was 
spoken  by  those  who  expected  to  meet  Chloe 
upon  earth  never  again.  The  little  children 
came  in  and  stood  around  her  bed,  their  young 
faces  shaded  by  a  quiet  sorrow.  To  each 
Chloe  gave  a  parting  kiss  and  commended 
them  to  Jesus. 

Yet  she  was  very  happy.  There  was  peace 
and  quiet  within  her  heart.  All  was  given 
up.  Her  dearest  friends,  her  pleasant  loves 
and  friendships,  and  every  thing  that  had  given 
life  its  sweetness,  were  yielded  and  given  up. 
Above  all  shone  that  blessed  rest  that  would  be 
her's, — pure,  heavenly  and  eternal ;  and  to  leave 
this  life  of  suffering  for  that  would  indeed  be 
joyful.  There  was  but  one  regretful  thought 
mingled  with  her  view  of  dying;  and  it  was 
this : — she  must  leave  her  father  and  mother 


228  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


alone;  and  the  parting  with  them  would  be 
sadaei  than  death  or  the  grave.  The  parents' 
hearts  were  filled  with  the  keenest  anguish. 
The  mother  was  ill  and  prostrated  by  sorrow 
and  weeping ;  and  the  father,  choked  by  silent 
grief,  could  only  walk  from  mother  to  child, 
and  from  child  to  mother,  in  his  deep  sorrow. 
Chloe  knew  what  they  were  suffering  for 
her.  She  felt  how  lonely,  comfortless  and  un- 
protected they  would  be  in  their  old  age  with- 
out her  to  care  for  them ;  and  a  strong  desire 
to  live  arose  in  her  heart.  For  their  sakes 
she  was  willing  to  take  up  again  the  burdens 
of  her  life  and  bear  them  on  through  still 
more  years  of  increasing  pain  and  sorrow. 
"0  God,"  she  earnestly  prayed,  "spare  my  life 
if  it  is  thy  holy  will, — not  for  my  own  sake, 
but  their's."  Her  prayer  was  answered,  and 
she  lived  to  carry  her  aged  parents  through 
scenes  of  sickness,  poverty  and  trial.  But 
she  had  been  so  near  the  grave  that  her  re- 
storation was  as  if  one  was  raised  from  the 
dead.  People  flocked  to  her  with  smiles  and 


LIGHT    BEYOND    THE    CLOUDS.  229 


congratulations,  and  living  seemed  more  plea- 
sant than  ever  before.  To  her,  all  things  were 
new.  The  flowers  which  the  children  brought 
in  possessed  beauties  that  she  never  before 
had  seen.  The  music  of  the  birds  had  sweeter 
cadences  than  she  ever  had  heard,  and  the 
gladness  that  comes  with  summer's  beauty 
was  to  her  deeper  and  fuller. 

The  parents,  in  their  joy  that  Chloe  was 
spared  to  them,  prized  her  more  tenderly  than 
ever.  The  father  at  length  became  able  to 
work  a  little  again  at  his  shoemaking.  Chloe 
made  and  sold  her  beautiful  things;  and  per- 
haps never  before  were  the  three  more  quietly 
happy  together  than  then.  Thus  a  whole  year 
passed  away,  and  all  the  time  light  was  in  the 
humble  home  upon  the  hill-side. 

But  it  could  not  always  last.  Another 
spring  came  around;  the  mother  scattered 
flower-seeds  in  newly-made  beds  and  the 
father  ploughed  and  planted  his  garden  as 
usual.  Soon  after  it  was  finished,  he  was  laid 

upon  a  sick-bed,  and  at  length,  by  disease  and 
20 


230  CHLOE  LANKTON;  o&, 

V 

weakness,  was  brought  very  near  the  grave. 
As  time  passed,  the  mother  became  worn  by 
care  and  trouble;  and  at  length  she  was 
prostrated  also.  Then  came  a  scene  of  trial 
for  Chloe.  All  the  care  and  oversight  of  their 
medicines  devolved  upon  her.  During  many 
long,  sleepless  nights,  she  patiently  and 
silently  bore  her  own  terrible  pain,  now  ag- 
gravated by  care  and  anxiety,  all  the  while 
lifting  up  with  her  cheerfulness  the  sinking 
hearts  of  her  suffering  parents.  For  her  own 
support  she  went  to  God;  and  the  Arm  of 
Strength  that  never  yet  had  failed  her  was 
around  her  then.  Almost  hourly  she  prayed 
for  strength  and  grace  to  carry  her  through 
this  time  of  trouble,  and  for  resignation  to 
the  sad  partings  that  seemed  so  near. 

But  the  darkest  night  will  have  an  end ;  and 
this,  perhaps,  was  only  sent  to  add  another  test 
to  her  long-tried  faith.  The  mother  became 
able  to  walk  around  again,  and  the  father  was 
pronounced  out  of  danger  and  was  gaining 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  231 


slowly.  They  were  alone  one  Sabbath  morn- 
ing, and  he  said  to  his  wife, — 

"If  you  can  take  my  chair  into  Chloe'a 
room,  we  will  have  prayer.  I  have  felt 
anxious,  since  I  could  sit  up  some,  to  pray  with 
you  as  I  used  to;  but  I  wanted  to  be  alone 
with  you  and  Chloe." 

They  went  into  her  room,  and  the  father 
read  a  chapter  in  the  Bible.  Then,  still  sit- 
ting in  the  old  arm-chair,  he  prayed ;  and  with 
that  tremulously-spoken  prayer  the  three 
hearts  went  up  to  God  together  in  sweet  ac- 
cord, and  the  burden  of  the  offering  was  this : 
resignation  to  all  their  trials,  arid  thankful- 
ness for  the  good  they  had  brought  to  them. 

The  parents  were  broken  by  this  long,  try- 
ing sickness,  and  now  were  failing  fast  with 
age.  The  entire  care  of  obtaining  things  ne- 
cessary for  family  use  fell  upon  Chloe ;  and  her 
oversight  extended  even  to  the  making  and 
mending  of  her  parents'  clothes.  Yet,  amidst 
so  many  engrossing  anxieties,  she  lost  nothing 
from  her  youthful-like  freshness  of  heart.  Her 


232  CHLOE  LANKTCN;  OR, 


sympathy  with  friends,  her  love  for  the  beauti- 
ful and  her  exquisite  taste  were  ardent  and 
glowing  as  ever. 

About  this  time  she  commenced  the  making 
of  a  new,  large  box,  for  which  she  had  been 
saving  nice  pictures  and  papers  that  had  been 
brought  to  her  by  numerous  visitors  and 
friends.  The  idea  of  it  had  for  a  long  time 
been  growing  in  her  own  mind,  until  now  it 
was  matured.  All  the  artistic  harmonies  of 
colour,  and  all  the  exquisite  little  inner  ar- 
rangements, were  in  their  beauty  planned  and 
pictured  there,  and  her  efficient  fingers  were 
itching  to  bring  the  idea  into  life.  During  her 
wearisome,  sleepless  nights  she  thought  of  it, 
and  during  the  days  she  worked  slowly,  but 
with  joyful  success.  The  box  was  becoming 
more  beautiful  than  even  she  had  thought. 
Her  father  would  sometimes  stand  by  her  bed- 
side to  see  her  work,  and  would  say, — 

"  When  do  you  expect  to  get  this  done, 
Chtoe?" 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  233 


"Oh,  I  don't  know;  but  I  guess  in  two  years, 
if  I  live." 

"Well,"  he  would  say,  "I  don't  know  how 
you  can  have  patience  to  make  all  those 
little  things  and  put  so  much  work  upon 
them." 

"It  does  require  patience,  father;  but  I 
love  to  do  it." 

But  she  was  interrupted  in  her  pleasant 
labour.  One  morning,  the  first  day  of  De- 
cember, the  mother  was  taken  seriously  ill. 

"I  wonder  what  ails  me?"  she  said.  "It  is 
something  new.  I  never  was  so  before.  I  can- 
not breathe." 

The  doctor  was  called  and  pronounced  it 
heart-disease,  from  which  it  was  probable  she 
never  would  recover.  Then  followed  a  long 
and  terrible  sickness,  during  which  the 
mother  passed  near  the  open  gate  of  death, 
and  another  scene  of  trial  for  Chloe,  with  her 
care  of  the  medicines,  the  comforting  and  sus- 
taining of  her  father  and  the  bearing  of  her 

own  aggravated  suffering.     But  her  mother 
20* 


234  CHLOE  LANKTON;  on, 


was  raised  once  more  from  her  sick-bed,  al- 
though gaining  so  slowly  that  the  gentle 
spring-time  came  before  she  could  again  walk 
around.  Then  came  another  affliction.  Mr. 
Yale,  who  for  more  than  forty  years  had  been 
among  them,  was  taken  away  by  death.  His 
loss  was  deeply  felt  by  the  many  to  whom  he 
long  had  been  a  faithful  friend  and  pastor ;  but 
none  mourned  more  sincerely  than  Chloe  and 
her  aged  parents.  No  more  would  they  see 
his  face;  never  again  would  their  hearts  be 
cheered  by  his  comforting  words ;  and  to  them 
his  death  was  a  loss  indeed. 

"We  old  folks  are  passing  away,"  said  thq 
mother.  "I  shall  soon  follow  him." 

About  the  first  of  June,  Chloe  began  again 
to  work  upon  the  box,  which  had  been  set 
away  for  so  long  a  time.  The  mother  would 
pick  the  flowers  that  bloomed  in  the  yard  and 
bring  them  to  her,  saying,  "I  did  not  think 
that  I  should  be  here  this  summer  to  bring 
flowers  to  you."  Then,  sitting  down  to  watch 
the  progress  of  the  box,  she  would  add,  "  Well, 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  235 


I  don't  expect  to  live  to  see  this  finished.  You 
never  will  get  it  done  if  you  take  so  much 
pains  and  put  so  much  work  upon  it." 

"Oh,  yes,  mother,"  Chloe  often  said.  "Pa- 
tience and  perseverance  accomplish  great 
things.  I  am  not  at  all  discouraged." 

The  mother  continued  very  feeble,  and  in 
future  a  woman  must  be  paid  to  do  the 
necessary  housework.  How  was  it  to  be 
done?  Night  after  night  Chloe  revolved 
the  question  in  her  own  mind.  She  though* 
over  their  limited  means, — how  she  could 
retrench  here  and  economize  there.  She 
feared  that  they  must  call  upon  the  town 
for  aid.  It  was  something  from  which 
every  part  of  her  sensitive  nature  shrunk, 
— a  trial,  she  thought,  that  she  could  not 
meet.  And  she  was  not  to  meet  it  then. 
God  provided  another  way.  She  had  more 
company  than  ever  before.  Numerous 
strangers  and  visitors  came  to  see  her,  each 
one  leaving  some  substantial  token  of  regard; 
and  thus  she  was  enabled  to  meet  every  neces- 


236  CHLOE  LAXKTON;  OR, 


sary  expense.  So  the  summer  passed  away, 
quietly  and  happily ;  but,  when  the  winter  came, 
poverty  again  stared  them  in  the  face.  Even 
then  God  raised  them  up  friends.  A  concert 
was  given  at  the  village  near,  and,  a  short 
time  afterwards,  the  clergyman,  with  the 
singers,  went  to  spend  a  pleasant  hour  in 
Chloe's  room.  For  her  pleasure,  they  sang 
again  the  songs  of  the  concert ;  and  when  they 
went  away,  the  proceeds  of  it,  amounting  to 
thirty-one  dollars,  were  placed  in  her  hand. 
Thus  their  pressing  wants  were  supplied,  and 
Chloe's  wintry  hours  made  blooming  as  the 
summer.  Another  spring  and  summer  came, 
but  with  it  no  lifting  up  of  the  weight  of 
Chloe's  burdens.  The  parents  were  now 
eighty  years  old  both  feeble,  broken  and  un- 
able to  work.  Their  expenses  were  increasing, 
their  means  decreasing.  The  trial  so  long 
dreaded  was  coming ;  and  Chloe  must  prepare 
herself  to  meet  it,  and  still  with  hope  and 
cheerfulness  sustain  the  sinking  hearts  of  her 
parents. 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  237 


The  three  were  talking  together  in  Chloe's 
room  one  day,  and  she  said, — 

"  I  think  we  could  get  along  if  we  had  not 
hired  help  to  pay.  I  don't  see  any  other  way 
but  to  call  upon  the  town  for  that." 

Said  the  father,  "  I  always  worked  hard  to 
try  to  lay  up  something  for  our  old  age, — and 
might,  if  we  had  not  had  so  much  sickness, 
and  so  much  expense  to  pay." 

"Oh,"  said  the  mother,  weeping,  "the 
bread  of  dependence  is  bitter." 

"Mother,"  said  Chloe,  cheerfully,  while  her 
voice  trembled  and  the  tears  came  as  she 
spoke,  "think  how  good  God  has  been  to  us. 
We  should  have  had  this  trial  before,  if  he 
had  not  raised  up  so  many  kind  friends  for 
us." 

Day  after  day  passed  away  before  Chloe 
could  summon  courage  to  do  what  she  knew 
must  be  done.  At  length,  forced  by  necessity, 
she  sent  for  one  of  the  town-officers  and  told 
him  the  story  of  their  privation. 

"Why,  Chloe,"  he  said,  cheerfully,  "we  are 


238  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


willing  to  pay  your  help.  We  expected  to  do 
it  before,  and  have  only  wondered  how  you 
have  done  so  long  as  you  have." 

Chloe's  trembling,  s.'nking  heart  was  cheered 
by  his  kindly  words;  but  the  trial  of  depend- 
ence was  not  removed.  It  still  rested  heavily 
there. 


LIGHT   BEYONI    THE   CLOUDS.  239 


XXV. 
SWEET  AND   BITTER. 

THE  box  was  completed.  To  it  Chloe  had 
given  an  extra  finish  here  and  the  last  touch 
there.  It  was  just  right.  Every  leaf,  bud 
and  flowret  of  the  outward  adorning  hung  and 
drooped  naturally  and  gracefully,  and  all  the 
beautiful  wonders  of  the  inside  were  in  their 
right  places.  As  she  looked  upon  it  now, 
admiringly  and  lovingly,  her  thoughts  went 
back  over  the  two  years  that  had  gone  since 
its  beginning.  During  that  time  had  come 
some  of  the  weightiest  burdens  of  her  life. 
Looking  back,  she  could  see  where  her  path- 
way had  been  and  through  what  a  wilderness 
of  sorrows,  cares  <tnd  anxieties  she  had  been 
led.  SLe  remembered  now  all  the  trembling 
and  fearing  in  the  darkness,  all  the  doubting 


240  CHLOE  LANZTON;  OB, 


and  distrusting  of  the  way,  crowned  at  last 
by  the  clear  up-looking  of  a  triumphant  faith. 
She  remembered,  too,  how  the  idea  of  the  box 
had  lived  in  her  mind,  all  the  time  shedding 
the  light  of  its  beauty  there.  She  thought 
how,  as  she  worked  on,  it  had  grown  in  ful- 
ness, until  now  it  stood  perfect  in  its  propor- 
tions and  complete  in  its  beauty  and  harmony. 
No  wonder  that  she  shed  tears  over  it.  It 
had  been  her  constant  companion  through 
times  of  trouble  and  was  to  her  like  a  true 
and  sympathizing  friend.  The  parents  came 
in  to  look  at  it.  Said  the  mother,  "  I  have 
lived  to  see  this  finished.  I  didn't  expect  to." 

"Well,  Chloe,"  said  the  father,  "you'll 
never  get  your  pay  for  all  that  work." 

The  box  was  set  away, — Chloe  glad,  yet 
almost  regretting,  that  it  was  really  done.  She 
already  missed  the  exciting  pleasure  of  the 
planning  and  making. 

But  another  pleasure,  that  she  had  not  ex- 
pected, was  in  store  for  her.  The  window  that 
had  been  made  back  of  the  bed  looked  out 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  241 


directly  upon  a  wood-house  that  the  father  had 
put  there  long  years  before.  It  had  become 
old  and  decayed,  and,  from  necessity,  was 
taken  away.  Now,  looking  out,  Chloe  could 
see  what  she  had  not  seen  for  more  than 
twenty  years.  The  road,  as  it  wound  up  the 
hill  and  curved  around  the  house  upon  its 
summit.  The  old  house  itself,  with  its  quaintly  - 
sloping  roof;  its  slender-posted  piazza  and 
monumental  poplars  in  front.  The  green 
fields  which  her  little  bare  feet  had  so  often 
trod  in  childhood ;  and,  farther  in  the  distance, 
the  chestnut-trees,  every  one  of  which  she 
knew  so  well.  The  old  road  looked  just  the 
same;  and  so  did  the  large  stones  in  the  fields. 
The  house  had  grown  browner  and  older,  and 
even  the  tall,  straight  poplars  seemed  to  Chloe 
to  have  taken  the  same  look  of  decay.  There 
were  little  shrubs  and  bushes  that  she  did  not 
remember;  and  some  trees  that  were  single- 
boughed  when  she  was  young  were  now  full 
of  sheltering  leaves  for  the  birds  that  loved  to 
make  their  nests  among  them.  But  the  same 

Q  21 


242  CHLOE   L4NZTON;    OR, 


spirit  of  ieauty  was  there,  the  same  «weet 
freshness  an^.  the  same  glad  blue  sky  over  all. 
Chloe  watched  it  all  from  out  the  little  square 
window ;  and,  as  she  watched,  she  wept.  Her 
very  heart  rained  tears;  for  the  careless  joy 
of  the  child  stood  out  for  the  time  in  strong, 
bold  relief  against  the  care-prisoned  heart  of 
the  woman.  This  feeling  at  length  passed 
away  and  gave  place  to  the  beautiful  memories 
that  came  thronging  around  her;  and  she 
awoke  to  a  consciousness  of  how  much  her 
happy  childhood  had  been  to  her  after-years. 
Olden  associations  had  lived  upon  her  days  of 
.suffering  like  gentle  wild  flowers  that  spring 
up  and  grow  of  their  own  sweet  will,  and  had 
filled  her  life  with  their  beauty  and  fragrance. 

But  from  all  this  she  must  turn  away  to 
meet  again  the  stern  realities  around  her.  Two 
more  long  times  of  terrible  illness,  produced 
by  heart-disease,  had  so  reduced  the  mother's 
strength  that  she  was  now  tottering  upon  the 
brink  of  the  grave. 

"My  strength  is  almost  gone,  Chloe,"  she 
would  say:  "I  cannot  sow  any  more  flowers 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THF   CLOUDS.  243 


ior  you.  I  can't  make  things  pleasant  for  you 
as  I  used  to." 

The  father,  worn  with  age  and  grief,  was 
following  close  upon  her  footsteps,  and  Chloe 
felt  that  her  parents  were  rapidly  passing 
away.  Their  age  and  infirmities  only  made 
them  dearer  to  her,  and  most  tenderly  she 
cherished  them,  knowing  that  each  morning 
sun  brought  them  still  nearer  the  time  of  the 
sad,  sad  parting. 

It  had  always  been  the  wish  of  her  heart 
that  their  last  days  should  be  most  joyful  of 
all.  She  was  thankful  that  she  was  spared  to 
care  for  them,  and  her  only  thought  was  how 
to  make  them  comfortable  and  happy.  But 
every  side  of  her  way  was  hedged  with  diffi- 
culties. In  her  mother,  the  feeble  breath  of 
life  was  mostly  sustained  by  the  doctor's  po- 
tions; and  her  own  sufferings  demanded  still 
more  expensive  medicines.  These  must  be  had 
and  must  be  paid  for ;  and  for  this  she  laid  by 
the  few  dollars,  barely  sufficient  ibr  the  pur- 
pose, that  had  been  given  in  charity.  Now 


244  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


provision  must  be  obtained.  The  little  they 
had  was  used  prudently  as  possible,  and  Chloe 
worked  most  diligently  upon  pincushions  and 
needle-books.  But  "hard  times"  came  on, 
when  even  their  best  and  kindest  friends  could 
give  but  little,  and  the  few  meagre  sums  she 
received  for  her  work  fell  very  far  short  of  the 
demand.  The  parents  suffered  for  even  the 
necessaries  of  life,  and  real  poverty,  with  all 
its  bitterness  of  trial,  was  crushing  them  'neath 
its  iron  feet.  What  should  she  do?  What 
could  she  do?  The  town  was  already  bearing 
so  much  expense  for  them  that  she  had  neither 
heart  nor  face  to  look  there  for  help.  But 
there  was  nowhere  else  to  look.  "  I  can  starve, 
myself,"  she  thought;  "but  I  cannot  endure  to 
see  them  suffer.  I  shall  have  to  do  it." 

Still  she  put  it  off,  hoping  that  relief  would 
come  froir  som°  other  source. 

One  day,  the  paients  were  in  Chloe's  room, 
sitting  side  by  side  in  their  arm-chairs.  For 
a  long  time  all  three  were  silent;  and  at  length 
Chloe,  looking  up,  saw  that  both  had  fallen 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  245 


asleep,  and  a  tear  was  still  trembling  upon  the 
mother's  withered  eyelid.  She  ]aid  down  her 
work  and  gazed  upon  their  faces.  Furrowed, 
seamed  and  wrinkled  they  were;  and,  amid 
the  furrows,  seams  and  wrinkles,  poverty  and 
need  were  tracing  their  lines. 

"I  am  wrong,"  thought  Chloe,  suddenly. 
"I  will  not  put  it  off  any  longer.  God  has 
sent  this  to  bring  down  my  pride." 

She  took  out  pencil  and  paper ;  and,  as  she 
did  so,  her  mother  awoke. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do,  Chloe?"  she 
asked. 

"I  am  going  to  write  to  the  selectman," 
she  said.  "I  can't  put  it  off  any  longer." 

The  mother  hid  her  face  in  her  hands  and 
burst  into  tears.  Said  she,  "  Your  father  and 
I,  when  we  began  life  together,  didn't  think 
tnat  we  should  ever  come  to  this.  Oh !  the 
bread  of  dependence!  it  is  bitter,  bitter!" 

With  a  nerveless  hand,  Chloe  threw  aside 
pencil  and  paper.  She  could  not  write  it  then. 

Days  of  anxiety  and  want  passed  by,  and  at 
21* 


246  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OE, 


length  the  long-dreaded  missive  was  written 
and  sent.  It  was  promptly  answered.  Pro- 
vision came  to  supply  their  hungry  wants ;  but 
it  was  the  bread  of  dependence,  and  it  was 
bitter,  bitter! 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  247 


XXVI. 

A  VISIT   TO   CHLOE. 

THUS  far  have  we  followed  Chloe  through 
her  life-history ;  and  now  let  us  together  wend 
our  way  over  the  solitary  road  to  her  little 
room.  It  is  an  early  June  morning,  and  we 
will  have  a  pleasant  ride  up  the  long  and  far- 
looking  hills,  through  the  winding,  shaded 
forests  and  by  the  wide-spread  fields  and 
meadows.  We  see  a  thickly-grown  orchard, 
and  near  it  a  school-house,  with  the  door  and 
windows  boarded  up,  long  ago  forsaken  by 
children's  feet  and  ringing  voices.  As  we  ride 
on,  we  pass  now  and  then  a  neat-looking  farm- 
house, with  the  usual  surroundings  of  sheds 
and  barns.  A  slight  turn  of  the  road  brings 
.us  in  sight  of  the  piazzaed  house  on  the  hill. 
We  look  at  it  eagerly;  but  there  is  no  sign  of 
life  within  or  around.  No  smoke  issues  from 


248  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


the  chimney,  and  the  roof  that  slopes  down 
over  the  piazza  has  fallen  in.  The  old  house 
is  ruined  and  deserted.  But  the  landscape  of 
valley  and  hill  that  meets  the  eye  is  spread 
out  as  gloriously  as  of  old.  "We  wish  to  rest 
a  while  and  gaze  upon  it. 

Nearest  are  the  pine-crowned  hills;  and,  in 
the  beautiful  stillness  of  the  morning,  we  fancy 
that  we  can  hear  the  sad,  sweet  music  of  the 
wind  as  it  moans  among  those  deep  and  sombre 
shadows.  Beyond  are  other  hills,  yet  radiant 
and  glistening  with  the  dews  of  the  morning, 
and  sloping  down  into  low  valleys;  and  .still 
other  hills,  rising  upon  hills,  far,  far  away, 
until  they  are  lost  in  the  dimness  of  the  dis- 
tant horizon.  As  we  gaze,  a  shadow  passes 
over  the  scene ;  but  it  is  followed  by  a  brighter 
sunlight.  The  shadow  comes  again,  then  the 
light;  and  so  they  chase  each  other,  ever 
changing,  ever  varying.  But  we  turn  away 
at  length,  and  pass  on  around  the  curved  road 
and  drive  rapidly  down  the  hill.  Before  wo 
reach  the  foot,  we  stop  at  a  low-browed  home 


LIGHT   BEY01TD   THE   CLOUDS.  249 


by  the  wayside.  We  go  up  the  pathway  ana 
enter  the  humble  kitchen.  The  cooking-stove 
is  in  its  accustomed  place,  and  so  is  the  long, 
old-fashioned  clock  and  the  shelf  whereon  the 
family  Bible  has  rested  so  many  years.  We 
look  around  for  the  shoemaker's  bench  in  the 
corner.  It  is  not  there.  Where  is  the  father? 
Where  is  the  mother?  We  see  no  one  but 
"Mary,"  the  tidy,  honest-looking  Irishwoman, 
and  a  white  kitten  that  is  playing  around  our 
feet. 

We  go  on  and  enter  the  little  bedroom.  Its 
walls  are  neatly  papered,  and  several  small 
pictures  are  hanging  upon  them.  A  rag 
carpet  covers  the  floor,  and  the  shelves  around 
the  bed  are  laden  with  neat  boxes  and  pretty 
ornaments.  Chloe  lies  upon  the  bed.  We 
Know  that  she  was  young  when  first  she  was 
placed  there.  Twenty -five  years  have  passed 
away,  and  Chloe  is  young  no  longer.  But 
time  rests  lightly  upon  the  face  that  reflects 
a  happy,  contented  heart.  Her  brow  is  still 
smooth,  her  eyes  are  black  as  ever,  and  there 


250  CHLOB  LANKTON;  OR, 


is  no  gray  mingled  with  the  dark  of  her  hair. 
She  has  never  been  out  of  doors  since  the  day 
she  was  carried  out  by  Dr.  Moody.  She  never 
has  left  the  little  bedroom  since  her  few 
weeks'  stay  in  the  old  room  where  her  sisters 
died.  Her  disease  has  steadily  increased  with 
the  years,  and  she  has  constantly  suffered 
excruciating  pain.  Still  she  greets  us  with  a 
cheerful  smile,  and  her  face  brightens  as  we 
draw  chairs  around  her  bed  for  a  social  talk. 
We  find  her  the  very  same  Chloe.  The  years 
of  trial  have  taken  nothing  away  from  the 
unassuming  sweetness  of  her  character.  They 
have  only  added  to  its  depth. 

We  ask  at  length  after  the  parents.  Her 
face  saddens,  and  she  replies,  mournfully, 
"They  are  both  gone:  I  am  all  alone  now. 
Mother  died  a  little  more  than  a  year  ago, 
when  she  was  eighty-two  years  old.  The  last 
time  I  ever  saw  her  alive  was  the  day  before 
she  was  taken  down.  She  was  in  my  room  a 
great  deal  during  the  day,  but  that  night 
about  three  o'clock  she  was  taken  sick.  T 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  251 


didn't  sleep  any  more,  for  she  didn't  know  any 
thing,  and  I  saw  how  sick  she  was  going  to 
be,  and  I  thought  perhaps  the  time  had  come 
that  she  would  die.  She  suffered  every  thing 
for  eleven  days.  She  was  on  the  bed  in  the 
next  room,  close  to  my  door,  where  I  could 
hear  every  thing;  and  I  had  the  care  of  the 
medicine  all  the  time.  How  glad  I  was  that 
I  was  so  near  her!  Every  word  she  said  I 
treasured  up  in  my  heart;  for  I  knew  they 
were  the  last  I  should  ever  hear  from  the  lips 
of  my  dying  mother.  She  said  'she  could 
leave  us  in  the  hands  of  God,  and  that  our 
parting  would  be  only  for  a  little  while.'  The 
night  before  she  died,  oh,  what  a  night  that 
was!  The  watcher  we  expected  did  not 
come.  Mary  was  sick  and  went  to  bed,  and 
father  and  I  were  all  alone.  The  poor  old 
man  sat  by  her  bedside  all  night,  and  I  told 
him  what  to  do.  He  came  to  me  just  like  a 
child  to  a  mother.  About  twelve  o'clock  he 
came  in  and  said,  'Your  mother  don't  know 
any  thing,  and  I  am  afraid  she  never  will  know 


252  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


any  more.  What  can  I  do?'  I  fixed  some- 
thing for  her,  but  she  couldn't  swallow  it.  Fa- 
ther seemed  lost  and  bewildered,  and  trembled 
so  that  he  could  hardly  stand.  I  said,  '  Won't 
you  sit  down  here  a  minute,  father?  I  will 
give  you  something  to  make  you  feel  better.' 
'No,'  he  said:  'I  must  stay  by  your  mother.' 
I  heard  him  sit  down  in  the  chair  by  her  bed, 
and  then  I  did  not  hear  him  move  or  speak 
to  her  at  all.  I  could  hear  nothing  but  her 
heavy  breathing.  I  feared  that  he  had  fainted, 
and  I  called  to  him ;  but  there  was  no  answer. 
The  house  seemed  like  a  tomb :  it  was  still  as 
death,  except  her  heavy  breathing.  I  called 
again  and  again  before  I  could  rouse  him. 
Then  he  came  in  to  me;  but  he  was  so  feeble 
and  trembling!  It  seemed  as  if  his  strength 
was  almost  gone.  Oh,  what  a  night  it  was! 
No  one  can  know  its  sorrows.  I  prayed  that 
God  would  support  us ;  and  it  was  his  sustain- 
ing grace  that  carried  us  through.  His  arm 
was  under  me  and  kept  me  from  sinking, 
Passages  of  Scripture  came  to  my  mind,  and 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  253 


they  were  balm  to  my  wounded  heart.  All 
night  I  felt  strong  confidence  in  God.  I  could 
say  from  my  heart,  'Thy  will  be  done.'  The 
next  night  we  had  a  good  watcher,  and  towards 
morning  I  fell  asleep.  It  was  the  first  I  had 
slept  for  two  or  three  nights,  and  she  died 
while  I  was  sleeping.  Oh,  that  moment  when 
they  told  me  she  was  gone !  No  words  can 
describe  it.  Father  was  asleep  too,  for  the 
poor  man  was  all  worn  out.  I  told  them  not 
to  disturb  him,  but,  when  they  heard  him  get- 
ting up,  to  go  in  and  tell  him ;  and  so  they  did. 
He  came  out  and  went  to  the  bed  and  looked 
upon  her,  and  then  came  right  in  to  me.  We 
'  didn't  either  of  us  speak  a  word,  and  he  sat 
here  all  the  time  they  were  laying  her  out. 
The  funeral  sermon  was  preached  here  in  the 
house ;  and  then  they  brought  the  coffin  in  and 
set  it  down  here  by  my  bed,  where  she  had 
stood  so  many  times.  I  tried  to  be  as  com- 
posed as  I  could,  and  she  looked  so  pleasant 
and  natural !  I  laid  my  hand  on  her  forehead 
and  took  my  last  leave  of  that  dear,  tender 


22 


254  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


mother.  They  carried  her  right  from  my 
room  to  the  graveyard.  I  raised  myself  up  on 
my  elbow  and  looked  out  of  the  window  to  see 
them  go  up  the  hill.  It  was  in  the  month  of 
December;  and  the  last  time  I  ever  saw  my 
sisters'  graves  was  in  the  same  month.  I 
watched  them  till  they  were  out  of  sight,  and 
then  I  was  clear  overcome.  My  dear,  tender 
mother  was  gone, — the  best  friend  I  had  in  the 
world ;  and  I  never  should  see  her  again.  I 
cannot  describe  my  feelings ;  no  one  can  ever 
know  how  I  felt.  As  soon  as  father  came 
back  from  the  funeral,  he  came  right  in  to  me 
and  sat  down,  and  after  that  how  I  clung  to 
my  father!  He  was  all  the  earthly  comfort 
I  had,  and  we  were  all  the  world  to  each 
other." 

"How  long  did  he  live  after  that?"  we 
asked. 

"Oh,  only  three  months.  Poor  father's 
heart  was  broken  with  sorrow,  and  he  failed 
very  fast  after  mother  died ;  but  he  was  just 
as  quiet  and  contented.  Mary  used  to  often 


DIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  255 


say,  '"Wiry,  he's  the  quietest  man  in  all  the 
world!'  and  he  was  so  good  and  kind!  We 
were  all  the  world  to  each  other  after  mother 
died,  and  he  was  the  greatest  earthly  comfort 
I  had.  He  used  to  stay  in  my  room  all  the 
time  when  there  wasn't  company  in.  He  had 
a  shock  of  a  fit,  and  after  that  he  became  very 
feeble.  He  couldn't  do  any  thing  but  read 
aloud  to  me.  He  read  to  me  the  very  after- 
noon before  he  was  taken.  It  was  Friday, 
and  a  bitter  cold  night,  and  Mary  went  to  bed 
a  little  after  nine ;  but  it  was  so  cold,  father 
said  he  had  rather  sit  up  by  the  stove  a  while. 
So  he  sat  up  and  talked  with  me  until  it  was 
half-past  ten.  Then  I  said  to  him,  '  It's  half- 
past  ten,  father:  hadn't  you  better  go  to  bed?' 
He  spoke  so  mournful,  and  said,  'Well,  I 
suppose  I  must.'  He  got  up  and  went  out, 
but  very  soon  I  heard  his  hand  on  my  door, 
trying  to  find  the  latch.  He  came  in,  and  I 
saw  something  was  the  matter  with  him;  as 
soon  as  he  was  taken  he  wanted  to  get  right 
in  to  me,  you  know.  I  said,  '  Get  to  the  chair, 


256  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OK, 


father;  get  to  the  chair  if  you  can!'  He  tried 
to  get  to  the  chair,  but  I  thought  he'd  fall 
before  he  could  get  to  it, — poor  man !  As  soon 
as  he  dropped  into  the  chair,  he  reached  out 
his  hand  towards  me  and  tried  to  speak,  and 
then  his  hand  dropped  and  he  was  senseless. 
I  called  Mary  up ;  but  she  didn't  know  what 
to  do,  she  was  so  frightened.  I  told  her  to 
keep  him  in  the  chair,  and  she  did  as  long  as 
she  could,  but  just  at  eleven  o'clock  he  fell  out 
on  the  floor  and  the  chair  turned  over  him. 
Oh,  how  I  felt  then  nobody  can  know !  Mary 
was  so  timid  and  frightened  she  did  not  dare 
to  go  out  in  the  dark  night  to  call  the  neigh- 
bours; all  I  could  say,  I  could  not  make  her 
go,  but  she  tried  to  do  every  thing  that  I  told 
her  for  him.  It  was  a  fit  of  apoplexy,  and  he 
began  to  roll  around  on  the  floor.  He  would 
turn  over  on  his  face,  and  then  the  cramps 
would  draw  him  up.  Oh,  how  dreadful  it  was ! 
I  raised  myself  up  on  my  elbow  and  watched 
every  motion.  I  kept  my  eyes  on  him  every 
moment  all  night  long,  and  told  Mary  what  to 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  257 


do ;  and  she  tried  to  do  all  slie  could.  I  spoke 
to  him  a  great  many  times.  I  would  call 
'father'  so  loud!  How  many  times  I  called 
his  name !  But  he  didn't  know  any  thing :  he 
was  entirely  senseless.  Oh,  what  agony  I  en- 
dured! I  cannot  tell  you:  no  one  can  ever 
know.  Passages  of  Scripture  came  to  my 
mind : — '  Call  upon  me  in  the  day  of  trouble : 
I  will  deliver  thee.'  'Cast  thy  burden  upon 
the  Lord,  and  he  shall  sustain  thee.'  And  I 
was  wonderfully  supported.  I  was  blessed 
with  calmness  and  presence  of  mind,  and 
knew  just  what  I  wanted  to  have  done  for 
him,  but  all  the  time  in  such  an  agony  of  sor- 
row and  anxiety  for  my  dear  father.  After  a 
while  he  opened  his  eyes,  and  then  dropped 
asleep  just  a  few  moments.  Then  he  opened 
Ms  eyes  again,  and  I  said  to  him,  'Father, 
you  are  very  sick,  a'n't  you?'  He  looked  at 
me  so  earnest  and  tried  to  speak;  but  he 
couldn't.  Then  I  said,  '  Father,  do  you  know 
me?  Do  you  know  that  it's  Chloe  talking  to 

you?'      Oh,  how  he  looked  at  me  then! — so 
R  22* 


258  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OK, 


earnest,  so  wistful  and  so  tender!  I  never, 
never  can  forget  that  look.  Then  he  tried  to 
move  around  to  reach  my  bed.  At  last  he 
could  put  his  hand  on  the  bed,  and  I  took  hold 
of  it.  He  pressed  my  hand  tight,  but  could 
not  speak.  Then  I  said  again,  'Father,  do 
you  know  me?'  He  pressed  my  hand  again, 
and  tried  to  speak ;  but  he  couldn't.  I  watched 
the  clock  and  watched  it ;  for  it  seemed  as  if 
daylight  never  would  come.  For  eight  hours 
he  had  lain  right  before  my  eyes;  but  how 
g]ad  I  was  that  he  was  in  here !  About  six 
o'clock  Mary  went  to  the  neighbours,  and  the 
men  came  and  carried  him  to  his  own  bed.  I 
watched  him  while  they  were  taking  him  out; 
for  I  never  expected  to  see  him  alive  again. 

"He  died  Sunday  night.  The  man  that 
watched  with  him  came  to  my  door  about 
twelve  o'clock  and  said,  '  Chloe,  your  father's 
gone!'  Oh,  what  a  chill  went  to  my  heart 
then,  and  such  a  feeling  of  dreadful  loneli- 
ness !  I  can  never  describe  it.  Then  this  text 
came  fresh  to  my  mind: — 'When  my  father 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  259 


and  my  mother  forsake  me,  then  the  Lord  will 
take  me  up.'  The  neighbours  were  very  kind. 
If  they  had  been  his  own  sons  and  daughters 
they  could  not  have  done  more.  The  funeral 
wasn't  till  Wednesday.  They  brought  the 
coffin  in  for  me  to  take  the  last  look;  and  I 
gazed  upon  him.  It  seemed  as  if  I  could  not 
have  the  lid  shut  down.  When  they  shut  it 
down,  I  was  completely  overcome.  I  could 
not  speak.  I  could  not  even  look  out  of  the 
window  to  see  them  go  up  the  hill.  They 
carried  him  away,  and  the  house  was  still  and 
solemn  as  death.  No  one  can  know  my  loneli- 
ness. I  had  lived  to  see  the  last  one  go;  and 
here  I  was  left  on  this  bed,  all,  all  alone.  My 
feelings  were  beyond  description." 

She  pauses,  and  there  is  silence  in  the  little 
bedroom  for  a  few  moments.  With  tear-filled 
eyes  we  have  listened  to  her  recital,  and  we 
ask,  "How  are  you  so  cheerful,  Ohloe?" 

"  0^,"  she  replies,  "  I  have  a  great  many  sad 
days:  I  cannot  help  it.  When  I  remember 
how  happy  we  used  to  be  together,  and  then 


260  CHLOE   LANKTOX;    OR, 


think  how  I  am  all  alone  now,  it  comes  over 
me  like  an  ocean.  I  never  was  separated  from 
them  &  week  in  my  life,  until  they  were  re- 
moved by  death;  and  now  there  is  not  an  houi 
of  the  day  but  what  I  am  thinking  of  them. 
I  was  praying  for  years  that  I  might  be  pre- 
pared to  part  with  my  father  and  mother ;  and 
now,  when  I  look  back,  I  can  see  how  He  did 
prepare  me  for  it.  I  never  had  the  feeling 
that  I  should  die  and  leave  them  alone,  but 
that  they  would  go  and  leave  me.  But  they 
were  spared  to  me  a  long  time;  and  I  am  so 
thankful  for  it !  Father  and  mother  lived  to- 
gether sixty  years.  They  were  nearly  the 
same  age;  and  both  lived  to  be  eighty-two 
years  old.  I  have  always  been  so  thankful 
that  I  was  blessed  with  pious  parents !  I  can- 
not remember  a  day,  when  father  was  able  to 
sit  up,  that  he  did  not  read  in  his  Bible;  and 
he  went  to  meeting  every  Sabbath,  until  he 
became  so  feeble  he  couldn't  go.  I  can  remem- 
ber how  he  used  to  read  in  the  Bible,  Sundays 
when  he  couldn't  go  to  church, — just  how  low 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  261 


and  trembling  his  voice  would  sound  when  he 
oegan.  Then  it  seemed  as  if  he  was  made 
stronger  by  what  he  read,  and  his  voice  would 
sound  natural  again." 

"How  have  you  got  along  since  their 
death?"  we  ask. 

"  Oh,  the  town  have  paid  Mary's  wages  and 
have  furnished  wood.  The  other  things  I 
have  tried  to  get  myself.  Sometimes  it  has 
looked  very  dark,  and  I  could  not  have  got 
along  if  I  had  not  had  so  much  given  me. 
The  people  all  around  have  been  very  kind, 
and  I  have  a  great  many  blessings.  God  has 
supported  me  through  every  trial.  What 
should  I  do  if  I  did  not  trust  in  him?" 

"Truly,"  we  think,  "poor  Chloe!  what  could 
you  do  if  you  did  not  trust  in  him?" 

"I've often  felt,"  she  continues,  "that  while 
he  afflicted  me  with  one  hand  he  upheld  and 
supported  me  with  the  other ;  and  in  my  deep- 
est affliction  I  have  never  seen  the  moment 
when  I  didn't  think  that  I  had  more  comforts 
and  blessings  than  afflictions  and  trials.  I 


262  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


have  this  nice  little  room,  with  these  pleasant 
windows  to  look  out  of,  and  so  many  pleasant 
things  to  see.  That  walnuMree  there,  in  the 
plain  across  the  meadow, — I  like  to  watch  it 
in  the  spring,  when  the  leaves  first  begin  to 
come ;  and  then  in  the  summer  it  looks  so  beau- 
tiful to  me.  In  the  fall  I  can  see  the  little 
squirrels  run  up  and  down  after  nuts.  It  is 
so  pleasant  to  see  such  little  creatures  have 
their  liberty;  and  I  think  what  a  beautiful 
world  this  is,  although  I  can  see  but  a  little 
speck  of  it  out  of  my  windows  here.  Then  I 
have  the  use  of  my  eyes  and  my  hands,  with 
these  shelves  and  cupboards  so  convenient, 
where  I  can  reach  my  things  myself.  Then  I 
have  so  many  kind  friends ;  and  that  is  such  a 
comfort  to  me !  The  little  children  bring  me 
flowers  and  fruits;  and  it  is  so  pleasant  to  Live 
them  to  love !  The  ministers  in  the  parishes 
all  around,  of  all  denominations,  have  been 
such  good  friends  to  me!  They  have  done  a 
great  deal,  and  have  influenced  others  to  do 
for  me.  Some  of  my  happiest  hours  have 


LIGHT   BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  263 


been  when  they  come  and  talk  with  me  of  the 
things  of  Christ.  My  mind  would  be  carried 
above  all  my  sorrows  and  trials  and  I  would 
feel  encouraged  and  strengthened  in  faith. 
But  now  sometimes  I  think  that  I  am  almost 
at  home.  I've  lived  to  carry  my  father  and 
mother  through,  and  am  left  all  alone,  and 
I  don't  know  what  I  have  to  live  for  now." 

"Do  you  long  for  death,  Chloe?"  we  ask. 

"Oh;  no,"  she  replies,  with  a  smile,  v  "Life 
is  sweet  to  me  yet.  Still,  I  like  to  think  of  the 
blessed  rest  which  I  hope  will  be  mine.  I  like 
to  think  of  the  time  when  I  shall  be  free  from 
all  trouble  and  all  pain.  What  a  happy  change, 
to  go  away  from  constant  pain  to  perfect  joy 
and  happiness !  When  I  get  to  heaven,  I  shall 
not  regret  that  I  have  gone  through  all  these 
trials  and  sufferings.  They  will  seem  as  no- 
thing then.  Happiness  will  be  sweeter  for 
having  gone  through  so  much  suffering  here. 
I  would  not  give  up  this  sweet  peace  of  mind 
and  the  calm  trust  I  feel  for  health,  wealth 
or  all  the  pleasures  of  the  world.  My  peace 


264  CHLOE  LANKTON;  OR, 


is  like  a  river.  I  am  willing  to  leave  all  in 
the  hands  of  my  heavenly  Father.  I  can  trust 
him  for  what  is  to  come;  feeling  sure  that  he 
will  support  and  provide  for  me  and  will  give 
me  grace  and  patience  to  bear  all  that  he  lays 
upon  me.  I  am  so  thankful  that  I  can  see  the 
providence  of  God  in  all  his  dealings  with  me. 
and  that  I  can  see  it  all  for  my  good;  for,  if  I 
did  not  see  it  so;  how  could  I  have  borne  it 
all?" 

The  clock  strikes  twelve.  We  hear  the  pat- 
tering of  little  feet  in  the  kitchen,  and  in  come 
a  troop  of  school-children.  They  have  bright, 
happy  faces,  and  our  hearts  bless  them, — the 
darlings  !  "We  must  take  our  leave.  But  first 
Chloe  will  exhibit  to  us  the  wonderful  box 
which  was  two  years  in  the  making;  -and  our 
eyes  open  wide  with  wonder  that  frail  human 
hands  can  make  things  so  beautiful  and  exqui- 
site. Then  we  buy  a  tiny  pin-cushion  of  her 
own  ingenious  designing,  and  reluctantly  arise 
to  go.  She  presses  our  hands  at  parting,  and 
hopes  that  "the  God  who  has  supported  her 


LIGHT  BEYOND   THE   CLOUDS.  265 


through  every  trial  will  guide  and  bless  us 
through  all  our  life."  With  tear-filled  eyes, 
we  respond,  "Amen,"  and,  with  Chloe's  parting 
benediction  upon  us,  we  go  out  again  into  the 
summer  sunshine.  We  ride  slowly  up  the 
hill,  around  the  curved  road;  and  as  we  look 
off  once  more  upon  the  landscape  we  see  the 
sunshine  and  shadow  passing  over  it  still.  We 
drive  on  down  the  long  hills,  through  the  old 
woods,  to  our  home  in  the  valley,  where 
all  the  long  day  a  gentle  river  murmurs  its 
beautiful  song  and  merry  birds  and  waving, 
whispering  trees  make  glad  the  sunny  hours. 
But,  in  the  midst  of  the  beautiful  surround- 
ings, our  thoughts  will  go  back  over  that  wild 
and  lonely  road.  We  see  again  the  hill,  mea- 
dow and  forest,  the  ruined  old  house,  and  the 
beautiful,  fai-away  landscape,  and  wonder  if 
the  sun  and  the  clouds  are  flitting  over  it  still. 
Then  we  think  of  Chloe,  with  her  earnestness 
of  face  and  purity  of  heart.  We  see  her 
weary  with  the  burden  of  her  suffering  life, 
yet  loving  and  joyful,  patient  and  trusting, — 

23 


266  CHLOE   LANKTON. 


the  path  for  her  feet  often  darkened  by  the 
clouds  that  gather  thickly  around,  but  her 
face  brightening  in  the  rays  of  the  light  that 
glows  beyond.  And  thus  we  leave  her.  Upon 
her  bed  in  the  little  bedroom  of  an  old  brown 
cottage  among  the  Litchfield  county  hills, 
Chloe  lies  patiently  suffering.  The  days  come 
in  their  brightness,  the  nights  close  wearily 
around,  and  still  she  lies  patiently  suffering. 
Truly  and  earnestly  hath  she  wrought  her 
work  here ;  and  now,  with  face  turned  heaven- 
ward, looking  forward  to  the  better  and  more 
beautiful  life,  Chloe  waits,  prays  and  trusts. 


THE  END. 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A     000099612     4 


, 


